


The Mystery of Aaravos

by Hordika



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Rayllum, F/F, F/M, Ibis - Freeform, M/M, Rated M Just To Be Safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22020904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hordika/pseuds/Hordika
Summary: The Dragon Prince is home! The war against Viren is won! For the first time in centuries, elves, humans, and dragons have a chance at true, long-lasting peace. As the continent-wide conflict dies down, the heroes of the Battle at the Storm Spire find their place in the new world.But even as old enemies become friends, an ancient threat bides his time as he gathers his strength. Resting, laying new plans into motion, and waiting for the right opportunity to strike...
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 220





	1. A New Dragonguard

“Is..this..a dream?”

As the Dragon Queen speaks, Callum could feel the crowd’s energy rising. _We did it_ , he thinks. _We brought Zym home, all of us!_

He exchanges a smile with Rayla, as they each take the other’s hand.

“I can’t believe it,” Zubeia exclaims. “Elves and humans are here? And they’ve brought back my baby…my love…and my hope.”

He’s never been happier before. The cycle of violence—all the pain, all the grief—looks to be finally coming to an end.

“How is this possible?” the dragon asks. “How could it be that my son is here?”

For a moment, nobody speaks, until Ezran steps forward. “He was never killed. My father’s mage took him to Katolis. My brother and I traveled with a Moonshadow elf to bring him home.” He motions to Callum and Rayla.

Zubeia looks at them inquisitively and turns back to Ezran. “It feels like it’s been a lifetime since I felt my son’s presence. Please…tell me what happened.”

Ezran began telling the tale of their travels with such authority and eloquence, Callum almost forgot it was his younger brother talking. Occasionally, Janai would speak up to fill in missing details, while Soren explained his father’s plans and eventual defeat. Callum was surprised to hear some of it—how Viren usurped Ez, crossed the breach, and devastated Lux Aurea. Such a man, such a monster…it’s a good thing he’s gone.

“So much misery…” Zubeia began. “It warms my heart to see so many looking past common hatred and fight to protect my son.”

She turns her gaze to Rayla. “Speaking of which…Janai, you said this is the one who defended Azymondias from the Dark Mage?”

Janai nods. “Yes, she did. Rayla, the Last Dragonguard.”

Zubeia lets out a soft hum. “Then you must have the courage and valor fit for a Dragonguard,” she says. “My son is still so young, and he will be in danger for many years. You nearly sacrificed everything to protect him. Won’t you Rayla, the Last Dragonguard, stay on during these hard years as the first of a new Dragonguard?”

Callum could feel Rayla’s fingers fidget, as though she nervously thinks of what to say. But he lets his stroke the back of her hand as he feels Rayla relax.

The moment makes him smile. Callum was so proud of her. After going through so much, he knew Rayla earned this moment. He remembers how, not more than a week ago, she felt so lost, thinking there was nowhere she belonged. But he knows, just as she should, that she belongs _here_.

Finding her resolve, Rayla lets go of Callum’s hand and walks forward.

“Queen Zubeia, I would be honored to stay,” Rayla begins. “But, if I may, make a request?”

The Dragon Queen nods, so Rayla continues.

“This war happened because both sides, humans and elves, were forced apart, and it only ended when both sides came together. If you want to build a new Dragonguard, then please, have both elves and humans serve in its ranks.”

Callum sees Zubeia give a warm smile. “I think that is an inspired request! Very well, there will be humans as well as elves defending my son. Did you have anyone in mind?”

Rayla turns around, looking back at the crowd. Callum sees Rayla peer in his general direction and pauses for a moment. He can’t see who she is looking at, but he turns around and scans the crowd himself.

There are so many capable warriors here. Who would she pick? Perhaps Soren? She’s fought him a few times and would begrudgingly admit he’s an excellent fighter. But he’s truly found his home in Ezran’s Crownguard, just as Rayla found hers in Zym’s Dragonguard. He would probably choose to return to Katolis.

Amaya, maybe? The best warrior in Katolis would undoubtedly be welcome. But she spent her life developing and training the Katolis army. Now that it’s mostly gone, she’d probably want to return home to rebuild it again.

Corvus seems like the best bet. Just as strong as Soren, and he seems to get along well with Rayla. Callum wasn’t sure if he’d leave Ezran’s side, but if he’d fit right in at the Storm Spire if he does.

Turning back to face Rayla, they make eye contact. She looks as though she’s been staring at him for a while. Her eyes are filled with concern and unease. Rayla then turns away to face the Dragon Queen.

She raises her hand and points at her choice.

“Him,” she says. “Prince Callum.”

The color drains from his face, and his hands and arms grow numb. Rayla starts to explain his role in their mission—journeying through Katolis, through Xadia, defending the Storm Spire, and saving her at the pinnacle. Yet Callum hardly hears her at all. Her words fall into the background of his mind. He just stares blankly into nothing as he feels dozens of stares piercing into him. All shocked and surprised, but none as reeling as him.

_Dragonguard?_ He thinks to himself. A few weeks ago, he could barely hold a sword! Now he’d be tasked with defending Zym from Gods-know-what is still out there!? It’s complete lunacy!

“You make fair points,” Zubeia eventually says. “But, you said he’s a mage. Why should he be on the Dragonguard?

Rayla takes a breath. “Because the reason the first Dragonguard fled is that they were no match for against a powerful mage like Viren. My parents couldn’t beat him. I _barely_ beat him, and it almost took a miracle. A new Dragonguard _needs_ a mage. Bows and swords alone won’t stand a chance against another Viren.”

She looks back at him. “Callum is a sky mage, the first human to understand the Sky Arcanum. And I can’t think of anyone more talented at magic than him. He’ll become a master mage, _and_ he will defend the Dragon Prince as well as anyone else you can find.”

Zubeia sighs softly. “I admire your passion, Rayla, but a mage cannot be on the Dragonguard,” she says. “That is simply not how things are done. Steel, not spells, have protected the egg of the Dragon Prince for generations. We are already uprooting one tradition by including humans. I’d rather not change another.”

Rayla raises her hand to protest. “ _However_ ,” Zubeia begins again. “I am intrigued by what you said. When you told me that this…Callum _flew_ down to save your life, you meant this literally?

With a smile, Rayla nods. Zubeia turns to face Callum, her great neck moving her head towards the young mage, and she notes his arms.

“I see you have runes on the side of your arms,” she begins. “Did you draw them yourself?”

Wordlessly and hesitantly, Callum nods. “Well done,” she says. “Ibis, did you teach the boy how to do this?”

Ibis clears his throat, looking quite uncomfortable. “I didn’t,” he says, looking both impressed and annoyed at Callum, “He learned by watching me do it…yesterday.”

Zubeia let out a chuckle. “He _watched_ you do it and then figured it out on his own in a day? Goodness me! As if learning an Arcanum as a human wasn’t unheard of enough!”

Her gaze turns back to Callum. “You were fighting at the Battle of the Storm Spire, is that correct?”

Callum nods meekly.

“And then you went up to the pinnacle to save Rayla?”

“Yes,” he says softly.

Zubeia hums, as though deep in thought. “You will not be made a Dragonguard.” Callum feels a weight lift off his chest, his heartbeat returns to normal.

“But you’ve shown great courage, wielded your magic well, and protected life here at the Storm Spire from dark forces, whether at the base or on the pinnacle,” she finishes. “The Storm Spire and its inhabitants would benefit greatly from having a mage of your bravery…Guardian.”

Callum’s breath hitched in the back of his throat. “G-Guardian?”

“Yes,” Zubeia responds. “There hasn’t been a Guardian of the Storm Spire in centuries, but with Dark Mages abound and threatening my child, the time has come. And who better to take up that mantle than the first human to master Sky Magic on his own?”

The Dragon Queen raises her head. “So? What say you?”

Still in shock, Callum stutters and struggles to give a meek protest, but words can’t quite escape his lungs, and barely musters a string of syllables.

The Dragon Queen lets out a joyous laugh. “Oh, you’re so overwhelmed by this honor, you can’t even speak! I can already tell you’d have great respect for the responsibilities you’d be facing. I insist, stay as the Guardian of the Storm Spire!”

“W-wait!” Callum starts. “I couldn’t possibly—”

Zubeia raises her hand. “Please. You can accept my invitation or not, it’s entirely up to you. But right now, I still yearn to understand what has happened in the world during my slumber.”

She looks back at Ezran. “Elves and humans stand side by side here now as comrades in arms…but will they do so as friends and allies?”

Ez, Aayna, and Janai all approach the Dragon Queen and begin discussing their respective kingdoms’ fledgling peace. As they do so, Callum finally gets his composure back and tugs on Rayla’s hand.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks her as she turns to face Callum. “Right now?”

Rayla nods and he leads her outside the antechamber. He takes her back up to the empty pinnacle, with nothing but the howling wind and the night sky to keep them company. It was only a few hours ago that Callum saw her tackle Viren, felt his heart rip apart, and leaped down to save her. Even though he managed to rescue her, it still hurt when he dwells on this moment, so he pushes those thoughts away.

“Alright, so…what was that?” He asks her. “Why did you just do that?”

Rayla responds bluntly, “We’ve been protecting Zym, you and me. As long as he’s in danger, we should both keep doing it.”

Callum lifts his hands. “Okay, but Rayla, I’m always going to be at your side. I can stay at the Spire with you, learn some magic from Ibis, and then help out whenever I can. I don’t need to be a…” he hesitates. “a ‘Guardian’ to do that.” He puts his hands on her shoulders. “I’m here for you, I don’t need a title to do that.”

Rayla smiles. “That’s sweet, but I didn’t ask Zubeia to make you Dragonguard just to keep you around. I did it for Zym. He needs you too. And even though Guardian wasn’t my original idea…it fits you.”

Callum lets out a sigh. As much as he wishes he could do the things she wants from him, he can’t.

“Rayla, I’m not like you,” he whispers. “I can’t jump in and save people like you can. I’m not a hero.”

Wordlessly, she places a hand on his cheek, giving him a half-smile.

“ _Yes_ , you are,” she tells him, her voice cracking a little. “You’re _my_ hero.”

Callum is taken aback for a moment, confused by what she’s telling him.

She puts her other hand on his face. “You jumped after me, without knowing you could fly. You risked your life for me! You saved me! Callum…what would _you_ call that?”

Rayla plants a kiss on his lips and embracing him. “I told Sol Regem I couldn’t do this without you. That was true then, and it’s true now. I got lucky with Viren, but I would have died if you weren’t there. I _need_ you here with me, and not just physically close by. I need your help to make sure Zym stays safe.”

Callum can’t believe the amount of faith she has in him. He still feels like he’s little more than a child. He only just learned he could do magic a few weeks ago, but even with his wings, he couldn’t picture himself as anything other than a kid.

He always admired her. It’s one of the reasons he fell in love with her, but he admired her long before he realized he loved her. She would always do the right thing, protect and save the people around her, and fight for a noble cause.

Callum admires her because these are the things he wishes _he_ could do. He wishes he could do the things she does. He hoped that one day, he could be brave and strong like she is. Yet, if she’s right…perhaps he already is.

Rayla continues speaking in their embrace. “No one is forcing you to do anything. I love you _so_ much, and that part makes me want you to say no. It’s not fair for you to leave home, travel across the world, and be forced to stay here. You have wings now, you can go anywhere, and you deserve to be free…but I wouldn’t ask you to stay here if I thought there’s someone else I trusted more.”

She backs away and looks at him. “Please,” she whispers.

He looks in her eyes, searching for purchase. Finally, Callum relents. He balls up his fists, and his voice is filled with doubt, but firm nonetheless. “I’ll stay…and be the Guardian of the Storm Spire.”

Rayla smiles as she breathes easily again. “Thank you,” she says. “I promise everything will work out. You and I together…there’s nothing we can’t do!”

It’s now Callum’s turn to smile. “I know.”

“Good.” She gives him a soft peck on the lips. “I need to go back down and talk to Zubeia about other possible Dragonguard members. I’ll come find you, okay?”

He nods and watches her head back down. Callum breathes in the cold air for a moment, feeling the piercing gust on his now bare arms, before heading back down himself to find his little brother. If he’s going to stay in Xadia, Ez has a right to know.

Finding him outside the antechamber, Callum spots Ez sitting alone with Zym. The Dragon Prince is curled around his brother’s shoulders, tickling Ez with zapping kisses. The young King giggles as Callum walks up and sits beside him.

He takes a breath. “Ez, I know I told you that as soon as Zym is safe, I’ll come back to help you. But, I’ve spoken to Rayla, and… I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to keep that promise. I can’t come home yet. They still need me here.”

Ezran just waves his hand. “Callum, I’ll be alright. Besides, I’d be pretty angry if you decided to leave Rayla behind. You need each other,” he tells him.

Callum feels a lump in his throat. “I’m scared, Ez,” he admits. “I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“Good,” says Ezran. “That means you know what you’re getting into.”

Callum rolls his eyes but is then surprised when Ezran suddenly tugs on his arm. Not like a baby brother, asking for attention. No, more like a King, demanding him to heed his words.

“Listen,” Ez begins. “When I realized I had to go back to be King, I was terrified. I didn’t know if I was ready to take the throne, to make all these big decisions that affect all of our people.”

Callum thinks he knows where this story is going. “But then you got home and realized you were more ready than you thought?”

Ezran smiles. “No,” he says. “I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready. But I’m going back to the throne anyway. Because I realized that we’re never fully ready for something until we need to be.”

The young mage raises his brow. “That…doesn’t sound right to me,” he tells his brother.

But Ez simply smiles knowingly. “Why not?” He asks. “You first learned to cast spells when we were attacked by Claudia’s Shadow Wolves. Then you finally understood the arcanum when you fell into a coma. And you _first_ jumped to save Rayla and _then_ figured out how to summon mage wings on the way down.” Ez smiles at him. “Were you ever really ready to learn new magic before you had to?”

Realization dawns on Callum’s face. He always struggled to learn magic on his own, but the pieces seemed to click as soon as he needed them to. He was never ready to do magic until he had no choice. “No. You’re right, I guess I never was.”

“So, maybe this whole ‘Guardian’ thing is exactly what you need. For you to become the person you were always meant to be.” Tears leave Ez’s smiling face as he embraces Callum. “I’m really going to miss you.”

As they hold each other, Callum can’t hold back the tears anymore. “I’m going to miss you too.”

When they part, both of them notice Ibis approach and give the young King a courteous bow. The two boys climb to their feet.

“Callum, I’m going to go and find Soren…and make sure he’s staying out of trouble.” He gives Callum a knowing wink before walking back into the antechamber.

The young sky mage turns his attention to Ibis and approaches the elf.

“I’m impressed Callum,” Ibis says levelly. “You managed to make sky mages everywhere look like fools for the second time in two days.” Chuckling, Callum nervously scratches the back of his head.

“Ibis, where will you go now?”

Ibis motions back in the direction of Zubeia. “Oh, I’ll probably stay a few more days to make sure the Dragon Queen has fully recovered. Then, it will be time for me to return back to my people.”

Callum takes a breath. He’s not sure how to ask him again. “Ibis…if I’m going to stay here and look after the Storm Spire…could you show me a few things before you go?”

Ibis laughs ruefully, placing his arms behind his back. “From what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look like you need much help from me.”

The young mage sighs. Rebuffed yet again. It seemed that no matter how hard he tries, no mage Callum meets seems to be willing to teach him anything.

“However,” Ibis continues. “I’d be willing to show you a few things that you can work on until I visit the Spire again.”

Callum lights up. “Really?!”

The skywing mage nods as he crosses his arms. “First,” he asks. “Show me how you draw a spell.”

Callum swiftly draws an aspiro with his finger. Ibis cocks his head. “Just as with fulminis, you only use one hand to draw a rune. If you’re not carrying a Primal Stone, that maneuver seems…slow and inefficient.”

“I mean, is there another way to cast a spell?”

Before he could even blink, Callum watched Ibis draw a rune with two arms. His wrists rotate as his arms move in opposite directions before an aspiro forms before him, as large as Ibis’ chest.

“Mages don’t just have to learn how to cast spells,” he tells Callum “They must also study how to form their spells in the quickest way possible.”

Callum just stares at him, slack-jawed. Ibis, no doubt, was enjoying the turnabout where _he_ is now left speechless.

“Because of that, each mage usually learns a style of hand and arm movement—a martial art, if you will—to go along with their spell casting. Every form is different and lines up with the mage’s Primal Source. If you want to cast spells properly, Callum, you’re going to have to learn to cast them the way a proper sky mage would.”

Ibis brings his hands in front of his face, curling his fingers into fists. “And _our_ style is called Sky-Dancing.”

“Sky-what?”

“Sky- _Dancing_ ,” Ibis replies. “It’s a bit more aggressive than it sounds, but I can teach you enough of the basics for you to learn on your own in addition to learning spells.”

Callum shrugs. “Okay, but how does it help?”

“Aspiro!” Ibis shouts at the rune in front of him. A gust of wind heads towards Callum before Ibis redirects it by moving his arms. Still blowing, Ibis directs the wind back around himself, spinning the air around himself, before performing a kick that sends the gust of wind right out of the chamber.

Callum stands stunned. “Okay then, I see your point. I guess learning how to, uh, Sky-Dance would be pretty useful.”

Ibis smiles. “I agree,” he says. “And, in addition to learning spells and Sky-Dancing, I’ll also give you a list of workouts and exercises to get your body used to perform magic at this intensity…which I fully expect you to keep up with daily.”

Callum’s shoulders drop a bit. “Oh no,” he groans.

“Oh _yes_ ,” Ibis gleefully replies.


	2. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viren and Claudia recoup after their defeat.

Claudia is still in a trance when Viren awakes.

While she’s still partially aware of her surroundings, to her, it’s all shrouded in a mist. She can only see her father as a shadow in a fog when he finally snaps awake.

She hears his gasps, his groans of pain. “What…what is going on?” he mumbles.

Returning to the light, Claudia’s relief is palpable as she lets out a soft gasp. _I can’t believe that worked!_ She thinks. _It was a guess, but the spell worked! He’s back!_

“You’re alive!” she exclaims.

Viren shifts uncomfortably, gripping his head as though it’s causing him pain. “Somehow, I…I survived the fall?”

Claudia lets out a sigh. It’s not every day you bring back the dead, let alone tell them what happened.

“No,” she bluntly tells him. “You didn’t…”

She picks herself up and kneels beside her confused father. Claudia rests a calming hand on the side of his face as she speaks. “But…you’re okay now,” she tells him with tears in her eyes.

Claudia sees her father give her a warm, grateful smile, which filled her up with such joy. She has her family back. It meant so much to see her father alive again, still every bit as proud as he is relieved to be with his daughter.

But just as quickly, the moment passes as Viren turns his attention elsewhere.

“Where is—” he begins.

Claudia scowls. “Your creepy caterpillar friend?” she bitterly asks him. She chuckles ruefully. _I guess even a simple thank-you was too much for him_.

“Two days ago, it climbed up that wall, and spun itself…into that.” She points at the cocoon in the corner of the cavern. The glowing shell expanded and contracted with each passing moment, like a heartbeat, like the creature inside was itself adjusting in size as well.

“It’s changing,” she finishes.

As her father observes the cocoon, Claudia turns her attention back to him. “What happened?” she asks. “You went up the Storm Spire while everyone was distracted, just like we planned…and then you fell? What went wrong?”

Her father’s look turns sour. “I almost succeeded. I had the Dragon Prince in my grasp! But there was this Moonshadow elf with him. Just as I was about to absorb the dragon’s life force, she pushed us off the pinnacle!”

She cocked her head, confused. “Wait, she pushed you _both_ off the pinnacle? But I only ever found you and that,” she looks at the cocoon again. “thing…but there was no dead elf with you.”

Viren scratches his brow. “Hmm, when I was falling, I saw some strange-looking Skywing elf who jumped down, grew wings, and caught the Moonshadow elf.”

“Strange-looking, how?”

He motioned to his head. “The elf didn’t have horns on his head. He also had brown hair instead of white.”

“Uh-huh,” Claudia begins. “I think I’m a bit lost. I thought _all_ elves had horns, and I haven’t heard of any Skywing elves with _brown_ hair. I mean…you make him sound almost human!”

Viren groans. “Mmm, maybe I’m not remembering it right.”

Claudia reaches for her bag. “Here! I think I have something that might help…right…here!” She pulls out the eye of a Wampus cat.

“With his, I’ll be able to navigate your memory and see what happened to you, dad!”

“Wait, Claudia!” he says. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes!” she insists. “I need to see the elf that did this to you…and the elf who helped her get away” Her face turns grim. “This is about justice. I want to see the elves who did this to you, so I can avenge you!”

Viren nods steadily, so Claudia proceeds. Crushing the Wampus cat eye in her hand, she begins to chant:

_dnim ruoy em dnel, sthguoht ruoy em dnel, seye ruoy em dnel_

Her vision is replaced with a bright flash of light, which fades as she makes out his memories. She first sees the dragonling, cowering in fear, before her gaze turns to a Moonshadow elf.

Her swords are drawn, her face enraged and determined. Claudia recognizes this as Rayla almost immediately.

“That’s…the elf that was traveling with Callum and Ezran,” Claudia says, still in a trance.

Viren sounds confused. “You mean the one who kidnapped the princes?”

Claudia shook her head. “She didn’t kidnap them, but that’s a long story.”

As the vision replayed the events on the Storm Spire, she sees Viren attempt to absorb the dragon’s power before Rayla knocks both of them off the pinnacle.

As they fall, Claudia sees the expression on Rayla’s face. It’s…almost serene, accepting, as though she was merely waiting for death’s clutches below.

As Viren’s gaze turns upward, Claudia could make out another figure falling with them. The Skywing elf, she thought. There was something oddly familiar about him. He was wearing a blue jacket, as well as a red scarf, and looked as though he was saying something.

He was…he was…Callum! Claudia gasped in shock as she covered her mouth. She loses sight of him as he disappears in the clouds above…before he remerged, diving down at a breakneck speed and with wings instead of arms, swooping up Rayla and taking them to safety.

In a few moments, the ground approaches, and Viren’s vision fades to black.

Awakening from her vision, Claudia is beyond words.

“That wasn’t a Skywing elf you saw,” she mumbles softly. “That was Callum.”

Viren’s eyes widen before he lets out a heartfelt laugh. “You can’t be serious. The prince? The useless, weak one who Soren had to waste his time training? You saw him?”

Claudia nods. “Pretty sure.”

He shakes his head. “Sarai’s spoiled child never amounted to anything,” he gently tells her. “I sincerely doubt that was him you saw.”

Claudia shoots him a glare. “At least when it comes to magic, he seems to have some talent with it.” More than just _some_ if what she saw tells them anything.

Viren grumbles. “Very well, but be that as it may, what you saw was still an elf. An odd-looking one, for sure, but one using mage wings, Claudia. You’d need to be connected to the Sky Primal and channel the Sky Magic within you to do that. No human could have flown like that. That’s impossible!”

“Yea,” Claudia says. “I know…and he’s done it.”

“No!” Viren bellows, suddenly angry. “You must have been mistaken! No human could have done that, your Callum least of all!”

As he rises to his feet, Viren continues to loudly go on about what they should do next, while Claudia’s own thoughts drown out his voice.

She had always taken a liking to Callum. Not in the way he liked her, but she was still fond of him nonetheless. He was always nothing but sweet and kind to her. His art was so beautiful, and she enjoyed his wry comments. Occasionally she’d catch him glancing at her, but she didn’t mind. She thought he was such an adorable, gentle kid.

Then came the last few weeks, when suddenly and without warning, he turned against her. He chained her up and took her Primal Stone, her one source of Sky Magic, and then shattered it. After she told him the truth about his stepfather’s death, he still chose to leave with the Moonshadow elf. And when the same elf attacked _them_ and tried to free the dragon they captured, Callum performed a spell that freed the dragon and crippled Soren. If it wasn’t for her quick thinking, he’d still be paralyzed…because of Callum.

Time and time again, he chose to side with this Moonshadow elf over his oldest friends, betraying them and even his kingdom for her. Time and time again, he chose to do nothing but undermine and harm Claudia and her family.

So, when the Moonshadow elf flung her father and herself to their deaths, it’s no wonder Callum once again chose to save her and let her father die.

Now her life has been ruined, uprooted and turned upside down…and it’s all because of Callum. How could someone so caring and so sweet become so hateful?

She _saw_ Callum in her vision. She’s sure of it, even if her father is not. Claudia isn’t sure how this is possible, or how he was able to learn magic so quickly and even go beyond the impossible. Somehow, in such a short amount of time, he managed to surpass her father, herself, and thousands of years of conventional wisdom that humans can’t wield magic this way.

It didn’t matter. Either way, she’ll make him pay for what he did.

Besides, she thinks, there’s a silver lining to all of this—if Callum really _did_ grow mage wings, then that means he must have magic inside him…just like all of the creatures she and her father have used for their spells. Who knows what sort of incredible powers she can get from someone like Callum? Reaping the life force of a human has never been done before. Perhaps there are many unique spells just waiting to be discovered from harvesting his abilities.

Her thoughts return to the present as she watches Viren stare at the cocoon. “What is it becoming, do you think?”

Claudia stands up and approaches the cocoon. She sounds distant when she speaks. “I don’t know…but whatever it is, it’ll bring us one step closer to getting back what we lost.”

As she strokes the chrysalis, her voice sounds grave.

“Justice will not be denied.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's curious, the Dark Magic spell described here is:
> 
> "Lend me your eyes, lend me your thoughts, lend me your mind."
> 
> It's basically a legilimency spell (i.e. lets the mage navigate the mind of another and see their memories). And from Harry Potter, the eyes from a Wampus Cat is used for these kinds of spells. Thought it was fun to include!


	3. Pax Draconis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years have passed since Zym was returned home. Callum and Rayla spend that time honing their abilities and trying to live up to the roles they now have.

Four peaceful summers had passed since Zym was returned to his mother. Now, as the weather begins to turn and winter approaches, a young Moonshadow warrior spends her early mornings sharpening her swords with a whetstone up at the pinnacle of the Storm Spire.

Rayla now wears the same Dragonguard uniform as her parents did, the reserved blue and purple clashing with Callum’s red scarf around her neck. She wears the scarf from time to time, and its soft fabric and distinct smell never fail to comfort her. It reminds her of the man she loves and how close he’s let her into his life.

Honestly, even four years later, the Dragonguard uniform feels, at times, uncomfortable. A little loose, a little hefty. Like a responsibility she sometimes doubts she’s ready for. Yet when she has these doubts, she feels the scarf and recalls what Callum told her about her parents. They faced a losing battle and fought to the end. Even in defeat, her mother’s quick thinking saved the Dragon Prince’s life…just as Rayla did. She tells herself that, as long as she breathes, she can defend Zym just as well, just as bravely as her parents did.

Her new swords, forged by Ethari, resemble both her previous swords and her mother’s. She can use them just as she did before, but they now have runes on them that let her break the blades down into connected segments that can whip and wrap around surfaces. Rayla _immediately_ took a liking to them, honing her skills with them in honor of her mother. She’s trained with them every day for years, resolved to be the best version of herself. Now a seasoned warrior, she had long surpassed her inexperienced 15-year-old self, reaching new heights of talent along the way.

As she continues sharpening her sword, she spots Callum in the corner of her eye, running up the pinnacle and stopping at the foot of the stairs. Completely out of breath, he pants as he crouches and grabs his knees. Callum had been doing the training exercises that Ibis instructed him to do when he first became Guardian. Each morning he would run up the entire length of the Storm Spire, from the base to the pinnacle.

“Ooh boy,” he groans as he continues to gasp for air. “I think that killed me. The whole world is spinning now!”

Rayla rolls her eyes. “Callum, you’ve been doing this daily for years now. This can’t possibly be hard for you!”

Still looking at the ground, Callum speaks between haggard breaths. “I know. I just wanted to beat my record,” he lets out a wheeze. “I think I did.”

“Third time this week?” Rayla asks, and Callum nods. “Well, that’s on you for pushing yourself too hard.” She climbs to her feet and puts her whetstone off to the side. “How is a Guardian going to _guard_ if he’s wearied all the time?”

He lifts himself straight back up, and she gets a better look at him. He’s much taller and stronger than he was when they first arrived. His red sleeveless tunic with padded leather armor does a good job showing off his physique. His arms are lean and muscular, while the rest of him is toned and well-defined. As hard as the physical demands of magehood were to him, Callum was certainly up to the task, and four years of work were imprinted on him like paint on a canvas.

Smirking, she takes out her other blade and raises them toward Callum. “Ready to spar?”

Callum looks confused. “Uh, can’t you wait for me to catch my breath?! I can barely stand!”

She shakes her head. “ _No one_ will be considerate, or fair, in waiting for you to be ready, Guardian. They’ll come at you with everything they have, even if you can’t.”

“Ugh, I guess a relaxing morning is too much to ask for,” he groans.

Rayla ignores him and continues. “How about this—if you can take your scarf back from me,” she motions to her neck. “You win.”

Grinning, she points a blade in his direction. “And if I can sweep your legs, _I_ win.”

Callum relents, raising his fists, his fingerless gloves contrasting with the light tan of his skin.

In an instant, any look of fatigue dissipates, and he snaps into a defensive stance. His exhaustion gives way to resolute determination. His fists are raised to guard his chest and face. He exhales, and his bent arms and legs freeze in place. Callum himself shows no sign of moving anywhere, forward or back.

He won’t make the first move, so she will.

She leaps and takes a swipe at him. He deftly dodges as he tries to build some distance. Rayla moves to prevent him from gaining space, grunting as she thrusts her blades in his direction. Yet, he ducks and moves the _moment_ before each swing would hit him.

He’s _impossibly_ fast, and Rayla struggles to keep him within range of her blades. But as long as she has him on the ropes, she can deny him the ability to draw runes or conjure mage wings, and she stands a chance to beat him.

Yet, Callum isn’t panicking. His eyes communicate a look of firm, unwavering resolve. She sees his lips, and they’re curved slightly upward, forming a faint smile. He’s actually enjoying himself!

Annoyed, Rayla turns one of her blades into a hook and goes for his feet. She latches on his left boot, and tugs back. He’s knocked off balance but simply flips several feet away.

She curses under her breath. Rayla chases after him, trying to get him within range of her swords. One of her blades bends into a whip as she tries to catch him.

“ _Manus, Pluma, Volantis!_ ” he declares, and just as her sword catches his arm, a wing swats it away.

He takes off right over her head. As he flew around, Rayla moves to the center of the pinnacle, trying to keep her defensive position.

Turning to face her, several dozen feet in the air, she can see Callum grin. “ _Fulgur motus_ ,” he says.

She can see two runes on his chest begin to glow through his shirt, and in a flash of lightning, he vanishes. Rayla crouches down, blades at the ready.

She spots brief flashes of Callum zip past her. He’s too fast for her to see as anything else. So, she stops moving, taking a few deep, calming breaths through her nose. She closes her eyes and tries to hear or feel Callum approaching. He might be almost invisible to her sense of sight, but not to her sense of touch or hearing.

Rayla feels him rocket past her, again and again, noticing a pattern to his movements. First, he swoops past from behind and then in front. He’s probably trying to size up how best to take the scarf, she thinks.

After he flies in front of her, she drops to the ground. She extends her leg behind her to kick and sweep his as he passes behind her.

Callum trips, rolling over and finally collapses to the floor. Ecstatic, Rayla races over to loom over him.

“Looks like that’s a point for Rayla, huh?” She asks, smugly.

Callum just grumbles, so Rayla rolls her eyes.

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that! I’d have thought you’d be a better sport about this,” she tells him. “After all, _you_ gloat every time you win.”

He just grumbles again, his eyes remaining fixed to hers.

That’s odd, Rayla thinks. She notices there’s something almost…unnatural about his gaze. He’s looking at her, but it’s a blank stare, devoid of all emotion. Callum never looks at her this way.

Nervously, Rayla crouches down and gives him a solid poke on his chest. As she applies more pressure, she’s able to push her finger right through him as he starts to disappear.

She gasps, at a loss for a moment, before leaping back to her feet. “It was an illusion,” Rayla mutters to herself. She had been tricked.

Rayla scans the horizon around the pinnacle. He had to be nearby to cast that spell and if she can just find him again, she can—

“Aspiro!” she hears his voice behind her. Whirling around, she sees Callum at the base of the stairs, with a rune at the ready.

He blows wind with his breath and pulls his arms to his chest to redirect the gust back to him. Still releasing air from his mouth, he moves his arm between each other, forming a ring with the wind around him. With a thrust of his leg, he kicks the gust back at Rayla. She feels the wind snap forward and hit her legs, flinging her into the air. She yelps as she loses her grip on her swords, but in an instant, Callum has moved under her.

He lets her fall harmlessly into his arms, holding her by her knees and back. With a free hand, he takes the scarf from her neck and twirls it around his. As he looks back at her, he lets her see just how self-satisfied he is.

“Point, Callum,” he tells her.

Rayla sighs. He had won. _Again_.

“You can put me down now, happy prince,” she grumbles.

After he lets her down, she walks over to pick up her blades.

“By the way,” she gripes. “I _was_ able to sweep the leg. I get some credit for that!”

Callum chuckles as he lifts a crushed moon opal from his pocket. “You were supposed to,” he says. “I cast that illusion of me _specifically_ to just fall over when you swept its leg. Then you were wide open.”

He smiles at her. “By the way,” he begins. “I should let you know that you have a tell.”

“A tell?”

“Yea,” he replies. “You move your left heel outward a little bit just before you’re about to lunge. That’s how I predict where and when you’re about to attack me.” Callum shrugs. “Just one of those things.”

Rayla realizes he’s poking fun at her, so she shoots him a glare. “ _Never_ tell anyone this,” she tells him. “I mean it! Breathe a word of this, and no illusion will save you next time!”

“I mean, I don’t think anyone else has noticed!” he clumsily recovers, his hands raised. “I just noticed it the other day. I think your secret is safe with me.”

Turning his attention to her sword on the ground, he picks it up. “Before I forget, I gotta add this to my column,” he says as he jumps over to the far side of one of the rocks on the pinnacle. Carefully, he etches a notch on the rock.

Irritated, Rayla rolls her eyes. It’s been a while since she’s been able to make a notch in her column.

“Huh,” he says, standing there with his arms at his hips. “It looks like I got quite a good streak going…wanna know what the score is?”

She lifts her blade and aims it at him. “You better not _dare_ say anything else!”

He cheerfully shakes his head and hops back over to Rayla. As she watches him move toward her, she thinks about how far he’s come. While Callum is still a sky mage, first and foremost, he’s gotten quite good at using other forms of magic. He’s taken a particular liking to moon opals and other artifacts for Moon Magic.

He’s picked up a little bit on just about every type of Primal Magic. Through this, he had even learned a considerable amount on four of the five other Arcana, with the Star Arcanum proving quite elusive. Though he hasn’t connected to any of the other Primal Sources, he’s awfully close. The way he talks, it seems to Rayla like he has all the pieces, even if he doesn’t know how it all goes together. She figures it’s only a matter of time before he connects to all of them.

He’s been particularly fixated on learning the Moon Arcanum, even writing letters to Ethari, reaching out and learning a thing or two from him in their back and forth. Through these letters, Callum learned how to try his hand on crafting elaborate objects for Moon Magic. He’s developed quite a knack in fashioning his own artifacts out of moon opals. They lack the elegance and beauty of the objects that Ethari can make, but they can do the same kind of magic.

Rayla knows why Callum wants to focus so much attention on the Moon Arcanum. It’s _her_ Arcanum, and he wants to learn as much about how she views the world as possible. Callum had told her before that, if he can understand the Moon like he does the Sky, then he’d feel like that’s a part of her that’s always with him.

It makes her smile just thinking about how caring and sweet he is to her.

“I’m really impressed, Callum,” she admits. “I can’t believe you’re this good at magic now!”

“I’ve still got a lot more to learn,” he answers. “There’s a new rune I drew on my abdomen that I’ve been trying to use, but I can’t quite get it to work!”

“Hmm,” a thoughtful smile graces Rayla’s lips. “Mind if I take a look at it?”

His face lights up. “Do I?!” He excitedly takes off his shirt to show his new rune, a circular swirl in the middle of his stomach.

As he enthusiastically explains how it works and the magical properties it uses, Rayla stops listening to him talk as she proceeds to gawk at his shirtless body.

Moon above, he’s _rock solid_ , she thinks. Four years of training and Xadian dieting have really transformed him. She sees his runes drawn on the tight muscles on his stomach, chest, and arms, all formed and defined. His square shoulders connect his broad chest with his powerful arms, and even as his geekily goes on about Sky Magic, she’s mesmerized by his physique. Even after four years, he can still make her heart flutter just by standing there.

_So_ handsome, she thinks.

Rayla barely notices that she’s grinning sheepishly until Callum catches her and puts two and two together.

“H-Hey!” he shouts, looking offended. He puts his shirt back on, glaring at her. “You didn’t care about the rune, you just wanted me to take my shirt off!”

Rayla feigns shock. “Who? Me?” she says, chuckling. “I would never!”

She notices him purse his lips as a scowl forms across his face. It would seem he’s quite annoyed.

“Ok, fine. I’m sorry for not taking this seriously,” she relents and begins to walk up to him. “How about this—tonight, you can tell me all about this rune and what it does! I’ll even let you quiz me!”

Callum lets out a grumble, and his frustration evaporates. “Oh, alright.”

“Good,” she smiles as she comes over to embrace him. Rayla slips her arms under his and feels Callum’s arms envelop her. He’s taller than her by several inches, enough for her to comfortably tuck her head under his chin.

Squeezing his well-built back, she chuckles. “Oh, no!” she quips. “Someone has gone and turned the Crown Prince of Katolis into a tree trunk!”

Callum simply snorts and continues holding her. He is _so_ gentle with his grip. Firm enough to let her know he’s there, but soft enough that she could practically fall asleep against him.

Rayla sighs as she rests on his chest, and feels Callum kiss the top of her head, in the space between her horns. This is a _perfect_ moment, she thinks. Whenever there’s a moment like now, one that is so incredible that she wishes it would last a lifetime, she makes a point to remember it forever.

“Isn’t your shift starting soon?” He asks softly. “Do you have to get down to the Dragon Chamber?”

Rayla shakes her head and looks up at him. “I still have a few more minutes, and I am going to enjoy you for every one of them.”

He smiles at her. “Ok then,” he says softly. Taking his hand, he gently tucks Rayla’s hair behind her ear. She flushes, her cheeks feel hot, and she can’t help but giggle uncontrollably.

“How?!” She asks. “How can you still make me feel flustered, after all this time?”

He shrugs. “Maybe I know a few magic tricks in that field.”

“Oh _shush_ ,” she says as she presses her lips against him. Their kiss deepens, and Rayla places a hand on his cheek while his fingers card through her hair.

They spend what feels like forever taking each other in. Rayla wraps her arms around Callum’s head, bringing him down closer to her. He gently places his hand on the small of her back as he holds them close together.

She gasps as he whispers her name into her lips. She loves him, _all_ of him. Just being able to feel his closeness and his touch breathes new life into her.

Sadly, even forever doesn’t last more than a few minutes.

They hear the roar of a horn below, signifying the changing of the Guard. Rayla sighs—it was time to begin their descent.

“What will you be doing today?” she asks him as they walk down the stairs together, stopping at the antechamber. As Guardian, he has far more leeway in determining the best way to fulfill his duties in protecting the Storm Spire and all of its inhabitants.

“I’ll need to meet with Ibis in Patola, to pick up some essentials for us here,” he says. “Then, I guess I’ll fly a perimeter around the Spire, just to make sure there aren’t any threats nearby.” He gazes at the horizon around them. “Maybe…flying a hundred miles in every direction ought to suffice.”

“Sounds like a long day. You should get on it, then,” she comments as she embraces him, leaving a kiss on his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back.

Smiling, Callum steps back and turns away. He leaps off the Spire, and Rayla watches him disappear below the clouds…right before he shoots back up above her and the Spire. He soars for a moment, spinning in ever-growing circles, before taking off into the horizon.

He never ceases to amaze her.

As she walks into the antechamber, she meets with the three other Dragonguard that are part of her shift and watches four other Guard members depart as their shift ends.

One of the Guards from the previous shift approaches Rayla and her group. He was an Earthblood elf, Istredd, once a legionary for his people, and somewhat brusque and straightforward in his speaking. He wasn’t intentionally offensive with his curtness; he simply was not a fan of what he called “idle chit-chat.”

“The Dragon Prince is still asleep,” he announces to Rayla and her shift. “We’ll see you again around dusk.”

As Rayla enters the antechamber, she’s joined by Marcos, a former Crownguard and now a Dragonguard, at her side. He smiles and nods at her, and she similarly shoots him a grin.

He’s a good guy, she thinks, especially to have watching her back. She never expected to have such a good rapport with him; when they first met, she had her swords to his throat. Her letting him go sparked a series of events— her group’s demise, meeting Callum, their mission with Ez and Zym—that ended with the Dragon Prince coming home. In spite of their initial encounter, or maybe because of it, she’s happy to call him her friend.

Now, he’s become one of the Dragonguard’s finest warriors. He’s picked up a great deal of skill over the years, taking himself from an above average knight to a one-man army in a pretty short amount of time. For Rayla, he’s become her favorite sparring partner apart from Callum.

Joining her and Marcos is a Sunfire elf, Tyene, and an archer from Duren, Adrik, who usually keeps to himself.

Tyene is an immensely talented knight of Lux Aurea, one of the best fighters in the world. Or so Janai says—Rayla has seen no evidence of this. Yet she’s undoubtedly skilled…which makes it quite unfortunate she’s also incredibly unpleasant, particularly on the subject of humans.

It’s sad, Rayla tells herself. Even after the Battle of the Storm Spire, many Sunfire elves still hold on to their hatred of humans.

But in spite of their some simmering animosity, the four Guard members avoid any arguments for the most part, just sitting in comfortable silence and watching over the sleeping Zym. His deep and loud breathing can be heard from outside the Dragon Chamber.

He’s now a reasonably large dragon. Zym is roughly ten feet long, and his wings span twenty. The storm dragon is now big enough to carry a single rider on his back. His teeth were as long as Rayla’s swords and his jaws were wide enough to swallow a person whole. Yet he remains as gentle and as friendly as ever, never exhibiting any of the qualities that made Avizandum and Sol Regem so terrifying and dreadful.

Eventually, Zym awakes, his enormous body unfurls itself. He yawns and stretches his paws, lowering his head while raising his hind legs upward. When he stands upright, he begins to walk out to the antechamber. He stops by the Dragonguard and looks over to Rayla. Smiling, Zym gives Rayla a gentle nudge with his head.

“Yes, yes, I missed you too, you wee dragon!” she laughs.

He backs away and heads outside. The four Dragonguards watch as Zym steps out into the open, extends his wings, and takes off, disappearing in the clouds below.

This isn’t uncommon. Zym has become so self-reliant that, most of the time, he’s either sleeping in the Dragon Chamber or flying off to go hunting for food. Only Queen Zubeia, and possibly Ibis or Callum, can really follow and look after him.

“You know,” Rayla begins, as the Guard walks back inside. “This job has become a bit boring now that Zym has gotten older.”

Marcos nods his head. “That means we’re doing our job. Back when I was a Crownguard, most days there wasn’t so much as a whisper of a threat to the King’s life. When we did our job well, there were no threats to his life.” He shrugs. “So, the job got pretty dull.”

Tyene laughs ruefully. “Until the Moonshadow assassins came for your King,” she says. “And then he died. It seems kind of strange that after failing to protect your King, you’re now here protecting ours, no?”

Marcos takes a breath, “Yes, they did kill him,” he says, all too evenly. “And we made sure none of them got out alive.” His gaze softens as he looks at Rayla, looking almost remorseful.

“For all the good that did your King,” Tyene replies. “He was already dead.”

Rayla glares at her. “Marcos did what he was supposed to do. That’s why he’s here defending the Dragon Prince. He defended his King against impossible odds and then avenged him when he couldn’t save his life.”

Her gaze turns to Rayla. “Speaking of which, weren’t you on that mission, the only one to survive?”

“I was,” Rayla responds steadily.

“Hmm,” Tyene murmurs. “From what I hear, you abandoned them—”

“—for the Dragon Prince!” Rayla spits back.

“And with humans, no less. Now thanks to you, they are everywhere in Xadia!”

Adrik steps in between them. “Let’s all just calm down,” he tells them. Turning to Tyene, he says. “The armies of Duren came to assist Dragon Prince and Queen in their darkest hour. Humans and elves fought together, fought bravely, and we won. As Queen Aanya is fond of saying, we find our true friends on the battlefield.”

Tyene continues to scowl. “Elves have guarded the dragons for thousands of years. Our mages have guarded the Nexus for each Primal Source since time immemorial. Do you really think that, after a single battle, we would be willing to forget all of Humanity’s crimes and let you take our rightful place?!”

“I’m saying,” Adrik continues. “That we’re all true friends here. Even if we don’t get along, we support each other where it counts.”

“Of course,” Tyene responds drily, rounding her gaze at Rayla. “Where it counts, our true friends wouldn’t abandon us.”

Without waiting for anyone to respond, Tyene storms off, sulking in a corner away from the trio. Even so, the atmosphere inside the antechamber becomes stifling for Rayla.

“I need some air,” she mutters, and Rayla walks outside, taking calming steady breaths as she does. Looking out into the horizon, she clenches and unclenches her fists, doing her best to push away Tyene’s words from her mind.

Rayla grimaces as she grips her left wrist. Even though Zym was able to cut off her binding, some damage was already done. It’s minor and doesn’t diminish her ability to fight. Still, occasionally it would sting, and she’d have to rest her hand.

Even years later, it would hurt, and even Callum can’t quite figure out a spell that would heal it completely. So, she’s left with this constant reminder. Even though she kept her hand, her decision that fateful night in Katolis to side with Ezran over Runaan will always be with her.

She flexes and unflexes her hand, trying to numb the sharp pain. Rayla sees a tall figure walk beside her at the corner of her eye. She turns and sees a sour look on Marcos’ face.

“Honestly, she is _not_ getting any easier over time,” he scowls. “I’m sick of walking on eggshells around Tyene. Basically everything I say either offends her or sets her off.”

Rayla chuckles. “Try Ezran’s jelly tart form of diplomacy. It worked on _me_!”

He laughs good-naturedly. Rayla enjoys Marcos’ company. He’s the only person on the Guard she feels she can talk freely to. Better still, she knows he will speak his mind, and will never try to mince words with her. Even when they disagree on the state of affairs between humans and elves, she knows he holds her life in the highest regard.

“You know,” he begins. “In just six months, it will be Zym’s fifth birthday.”

She nods, knowing what that entails. Traditionally, when a Dragon Prince or Princess turns five, they have reached the maturity to become a reigning monarch. After Zym’s coronation as Dragon King, the Dragonguard will be disbanded, until another egg is laid.

“What will you do?” she asks.

Marcos shrugs. “I’ll probably come home to Katolis. Maybe return to the Crownguard and go back to the usual.” He laughs a bit. “Might be a bit of a letdown, to travel halfway across the world and protect the future King of the dragons, only to wind up exactly where I was before…but honestly, I kinda miss that routine!”

He looks at her, genuinely curious. “How about you? Where will you go?”

She isn’t sure. Where _could_ she go, she wonders. Rayla can’t even return home. After everything that had happened, her bravery wasn't enough to redeem her in the eyes of her people. In spite of finally learning why Rayla left with Callum and Ezran and returning the Dragon Prince home, the Council of the Silvergrove continues to refuse to lift the Ghost spell on Rayla.

Moonshadow stubbornness, she curses.

“I don’t know,” she replies. “But wherever I _do_ go, it will always be with Callum.”

Marcos smiles warmly. “You really love him, don’t you?”

She looks at him, feeling so happy she gets to say it. “Yes. I really do love him.”

Rayla looks back at her wrist. “Well, Callum is the Crown Prince now, after all. Maybe that means we’ll wind up in Katolis with you and everyone.”

His face lights up.

“Well, it would be great to have you in Katolis!” he exclaims. “I think you’ll like it better, this time around.”

“I should hope so,” Rayla responds. “Since no one’s trying to kill me this time around.”

They both share a heartfelt laugh as the sun rises above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some new Sky magic this time:
> 
> Fulgur motus--translating to "lightning motion," it allows a Sky mage to substantially increase their movements, allowing them to move superhumanly fast and to react quickly to high-speed situations.


	4. The Great Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A King enjoys (and struggles with) an era of peace for his people.

The sun rises over the Katolis training courtyard, and a young King raises his wooden sword to guard his face. Ez tries to enjoy these training sessions with Soren, though it’s hard to find enjoyment in getting knocked down by the Captain of the Crownguard. Especially when he’s supposed to be guarding _you._

Soren must see his nervousness, so his gaze relaxes a bit, and he lowers his sword.

“The expert swordsman was always a beginner first,” Soren reassures him. He’s gotten quite good at giving him words of encouragement. “Remember, watch where I’m coming from and try to parry the blade. Practice makes perfect.”

Ezran rolls his eyes. At fourteen, he’s better than Callum was, though not by that much. He still spends most of their time together kissing the ground.

He nods slowly, and Soren springs forward. Ez parries one blow and pushes the sword back. He throws a few swings at the Crownguard, all of which miss. He doesn’t see the opening before Soren does, so the Captain’s sword hits Ez on his side, and he tumbles over.

“You’re down, not out,” Soren encourages. “Keep going.”

Ezran nods, then climbs to his feet. Raising his sword, he grunts as he lunges forward. He throws wild strikes and swings at Soren, all of which he parries. In the blink of an eye, Soren’s blade then sweeps under Ezran’s legs and knocks him on to his back.

Ez groans as he feels the pain on his rear. This time he wasn’t getting up.

Soren chuckles. “If we keep this up, they’ll have my head for killing the King.”

Ezran shoots him a glare. “I thought you told Callum that sweeping the leg isn’t a thing in sword-fighting?”

“Your Crownguard captain has learned a thing or two since then.” He holds out a hand to help him up. “My King.”

As Ezran makes it to his feet, the two take a break and sit at a bench. As Ezran uses a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow, Soren lifts a canteen to his mouth and takes a swig of water.

“I gotta admit,” Soren says. “You do give me a good workout.”

Ezran shakes his head. “Don’t patronize me. One of these days, I’ll get you.”

Soren looks at the young King and smiles. “I hope so, your Majesty.”

Ezran smirks as he looks back at him. “I’d hate for us to be so formal. I hope you haven’t given up on just calling me Ez.”

“Only in public, my King,” says Soren, teasingly. “Only in public.”

The two take a minute to enjoy the quiet moment around them. Truth be told, there are always quiet moments these days. Commoners have called these past four years of peace, “the Great Calm.” Since the Battle of the Storm Spire, all the threats Xadia once posed vanished overnight. Katolis, once burdened with defending the Breach from elven invaders, now enjoys the opportunities peace has afforded them. The Kingdom no longer needs to raise thousands of soldiers for its standing armies. The training courtyard usually only has a handful of men and women pass through each day but is otherwise empty.

“It’s still so strange how empty this place is,” Soren remarks. “I’m usually the only person here. That and any of the Crownguard I order to train with me.”

“Yep,” Ezran replies, knitting his eyebrows. “Everyone has been taking it easy these past few years.”

Soren bumps Ez with his elbow. “You can change that, as King. I’m surprised General Amaya hadn’t chewed your head off for being so laid back.”

Ez chuckles. “My aunt’s got a pretty good working relationship with Queen Janai. Between the two of them, they haven’t found much that Katolis has to be worried about. Besides,” he motions to a few idle knights. “Our guards could use a break every once in a while.”

“From what I’ve heard, they have something more than just a _working_ relationship,” Soren shoots Ez a knowing wink.

The young King couldn’t help but snicker. He knows about Amaya’s relationship with Janai, and how they’ve stayed in touch in spite of the distance. They’ve regularly sent letters to each other and have seen each other from time to time. Between the Sunfire Queen making official visits to Katolis, and Amaya leading delegations to Lux Aurea, the two women have grown close.

“I’m happy for them,” says Soren. “Having such good relations with the Sunfires is just an added bonus.”

Indeed, Ez thinks. Katolis now has a strong alliance with the elves of Lux Aurea. In fact, it has closer relations with Queen Janai than with several of the Human Kingdoms. Neolandia, in particular, was so infuriated by Prince Kasef's death that the kingdom has closed its borders to Katolis and Duren.

Humans and elves alike can travel between Katolis and Xadia through the passageway Viren and Claudia have made, now known as "The Bridge." But in spite of that, Ezran has not seen Rayla, Zym, or his brother in four years.

“I wish I could see my brother or Rayla as often as Amaya sees Janai,” Ez gripes. “I haven’t seen them or Zym since the battle…I miss them.”

Ezran knew that this would be hard, on all of them. Rayla’s parents were absent her entire life due to their commitments as Dragonguard. Being a Guardian is just as demanding. But as the months, and later the years, rolled by, being King of Katolis without them became quite lonely.

He gets it, or at least tries to. They have responsibilities now on the Storm Spire, just as Ez does here.

Nevertheless, Callum and Rayla each send letters to Ez, and he to them. Each month, he’d get a letter from them, and he’d send a letter back. He’d daydream that, one of these days, it would be Callum himself flying home instead of a crow carrying a message. “Sorry for the wait, kiddo!” he would say. “Let’s go visit the baker! I’m dying for some jelly tarts!”

But they’re not boys anymore. Even though they brought Zym home and there’s peace with Xadia, their father’s death forced the two of them to grow up way too fast. Ezran knows that, even though he wishes he didn’t have to.

Ezran had grown substantially over the four years, in every way. He’s a hair taller than Callum was at fourteen. He’s braided his hair into dreadlocks, and though Ez is but a child, he’s showing signs of his father. Opeli has commented that he’s started to furrow his brow when deep in thought, much like Harrow did. He speaks more deliberately now, as though weighing on the choices of his words as heavily as he does the matters of his kingdom.

Soren had changed as well. Though he’s still the same goofball he always was, he’s clearly matured since the Battle of the Storm Spire. As Ezran’s unofficial adviser and Crownguard, he’s helped the King through every significant decision of his reign. He’s become a bit more thoughtful, a lot more observant when dealing with matters of State. His time in court has made him quite a bit more considerate and sensitive. He’s not the simple-minded jock that everyone always thought he was.

Yet, as Ezran had reluctantly noted, his skills with the sword have not diminished in the slightest.

“I’m terrible at this,” Ez complains. “I’ve been at this for years, and I’m still falling over myself!”

“Oh, don’t beat yourself up!” Soren tells him. “Everyone learns how to use a sword at their own pace.”

He gives the young King a knowing wink. “Besides,” he whispers. “You’re still better than Callum.”

“So, I’ve heard,” Ez replies with a smile. “His clumsiness was legendary.”

Soren chuckles. “Yea,” he says wistfully, as though feeling nostalgic. “I wish I hadn’t picked on him so much…I think I cared more about poking fun at him than actually training him.”

Ez can see a tinge of guilt in his face. “If I hadn’t been so mean to him, maybe he wouldn’t have been so terrible.”

It was Ezran’s turn to encourage his Crownguard. “Aw, cheer up, Soren! It all worked out in the end. Callum became a mage, and a _Guardian_ at that!

Soren raises a finger, sounding a lot more jovial. “That’s true! We’d be short one human mage if it wasn’t for my awful training!”

“That’s…one way to put it,” says Ezran.

“How is that little scamp?” he asks.

“According to Rayla, Callum’s gotten quite strong over the years.” Ezran stands up and smirks at Soren. “The way she talks about him, he’s probably even stronger than you are.”

Soren chuckles, before suddenly looking dumbfounded. “Wait, what?”

Before they could continue, they hear Opeli’s voice from behind them.

“My king!” she says, startling the boys. How long was she standing there? “Minister Balan has arrived in the throne room and awaits your presence.”

Ez sighs. Back to business, he thinks.

“Thanks, Soren,” he smiles at the Crownguard. “This was fun!” Soren bows his head as Ezran walks back to the castle.

Opeli and Ezran walk in silence as he mentally prepares himself for the meeting. Minister Balan is an enigma to Ez. His father, General Balan, tried to overthrow King Harrow when he left to fight Avizandum. He had utterly failed; his forces were comprised of a few dozen knights, and the coup was over before Harrow and Viren even returned. Without much forethought, Balan was executed for treason.

Ezran never knew this General Balan but heard only a few remarks about him. Soren said he only ever knew the General as a greying and portly old man with a permanent scowl. Once an imposing force, he started to fall into irrelevance before he attempted to seize the throne, thinking it could restore his former glory. These trace few details are all that people remember him for.

His son, a Commander at the time, was away on a campaign to fend off an incursion by rebels. When he returned, he denounced his father and reaffirmed his fealty to the Crown.

Balan’s son was _nothing_ like him. Whereas his father was portly, the younger Balan is a tall, slender, broad-shouldered man. He is sharp as a razor, and a capable commander, crafting an entire school of military strategy during his career. In spite of his relative youth, his treatise on warfare is taught all over the Pentarchy. He’s quite possibly the best strategist Katolis has ever had.

For his feats, Ezran had appointed him Minister of Arms at Opeli’s suggestion. There, he’s been performing his duties effectively and faithfully. Always a loyal subject, Ez noticed he was often _too_ loyal. So much so that he shows blatant hostility towards Callum spending the past four years away from Katolis.

It’s always been a sore spot. Minister Balan has never been able to shake his bigotry of elves. To him, Callum’s position is tantamount to fraternizing with the enemy. Were he in charge, Minister Balan would have expelled Callum from the royal family and prohibited him from ever returning to Katolis.

Thank the Gods he was not in charge.

Ezran takes his crown from Opeli and puts it on his head just before he enters the throne room. When Ez walks in, he noticed Balan standing at the far side of the room. He was eying the throne before he saw Ezran’s arrival and turned around to face his King.

“It’s good to see you, Minister Balan.” Ezran’s tries to sound pleasant, even as he wanted to move this meeting along. “How was your trip?”

“Fair,” replies the Minister, before reaching for the book under his arm. “My King, I am grateful for your audience, but I don’t wish to take up too much of your time. May we begin?”

Ezran nods and sits down at the table in the throne room. At least the two of them are finally in agreement.

Balan sits down in a chair facing the King and opens the book. “All is quiet on our eastern border. Beyond a few elven smugglers, there are no incursions to report on from the Breach.”

“That’s good to hear,” Ezran replies impassively. That’s word-for-word the report from last month. At some point, the Minister should admit that reporting on non-issues from the Breach has to be getting boring, even for him. It’s obvious that the elves are no longer a threat to Katolis, and that peace is here to stay.

Balan flips a page and gives the King a pensive stare with his pale green eyes.

“We do have some concerns on our western border. Missionaries and refugees from the Children of Pharros have begun migrating into Katolis.”

Ezran had heard of the Children of Pharros before, from one of his history classes. They are a religious cult that believes there exists another form of magic beyond Dark and Primal Magic. They call this form “the Grace,” which bestows upon specific individuals the ability to wield certain powers. While they’ve existed for roughly a thousand years, they’ve always been small in number and not widely respected. Viren, for instance, paid them no heed; he just saw what they did as Dark Magic by another name, and clumsily done at that.

Yet, since the Battle of the Storm Spire, they have been rapidly gaining converts, particularly in Neolandia and Del Bar, quickly filling the power vacuum left there after their leaders’ assassinations.

“How many?” Asks Ezran.

“Several thousand are already here,” Balan replies. “But most of them have arrived from Del Bar only in the last few months. Their missionaries have arrived at most of our western cities. These efforts are being led by the Children’s new leader, a priestess calling herself the Red Grace.”

Balan takes a card out from his book and gives it to Ezran. “I sent one of my men to try and find as much information as he can on this Red Grace. He was able to obtain this small portrait of her from one of the missionaries.”

Ezran looked over the painting. She’s an old woman, with gentle features and a kind, almost inviting gaze. Her grey hair and warm smile made her look almost grandmotherly.

“She’s been described as soft-spoken by her followers,” Balan continues. “That detail and this portrait are all the information I can confirm are true. The rest is hearsay and conjecture.”

“Alright,” replies the King. “Why should any of this matter to us?”

“Because,” the Minister begins. “The more people join the Children, the less loyal those subjects become. If we let the Children win over too many converts, this may disrupt civil order. The Red Grace could undermine allegiance to the Crown, perhaps lead another revolt in Katolis.”

Ez shakes his head. “People have a right to believe what they want to believe.” He looks carefully at Balan. “Some believe in this ‘Grace,’ others believe that elves are bloodthirsty monsters. I’m not about to tell people what fairy tales they are allowed to believe in.”

Balan purses his lips and makes a scowl but knows better than to push back too hard. “Be that as it may, we should not let too many of these Children of Pharros threaten our peace.”

“Peace will require just as much strength as war,” Ezran forcefully responds. “And I am prepared to defend it.”

Balan nods his head. “Very well, my King,” he carefully closes his book. “I will defer to you on this matter.”

Ez breathes a sigh of relief through his nostrils. Someone could have cut the tension between them with a knife.

“Instead,” Balan begins again. “I’d like to discuss something else now. The Dragon Prince, Azymondias, will be turning five in a few months. Once his birthday has passed, the Dragonguard’s term is over…and that means the Crown Prince should have no reason to stay on the Storm Spire.”

Ezran makes a face. “I know you’ve never approved of his decision to stay as Guardian.”

“I’ve never hidden my disapproval,” he replies. “He should be here, learning what it means to serve and advise his King.”

“Callum has learned a great deal of magic while in Xadia,” Ez retorts. “When he comes home, he’ll be so much more helpful than if he stayed here this entire time.”

Balan nods his head. “I don’t wish to bring this up again, my King. I am merely pleased that your heir is coming home, where he belongs.”

His look soured. “I am, however, less thrilled that he would likely be bringing that elf back with him.”

Ezran tried to suppress his anger. Truth be told, among all that different insults he’s heard directed at Rayla—whore, witch, slut—“that elf” sounds rather tame by comparison.

He lets out a sigh. “Why are you bringing this up again?”

Balan taps his fingers on the table. “I don’t judge Callum for his personal proclivities or tastes in women…”

_Deep breathes_ , Ezran tells himself. _Deep breathes._

“…but his romances are not just his personal business. They are also a matter of State.”

He points at his book as he begins to raise his voice. “You’ve listened to my reports, right? You’ve heard about all the unrest in the Human Kingdoms, the chaos that reigns in the Pentarchy? Katolis _badly_ needs allies in this time of crisis!”

Balan pauses, giving himself a moment to calm down. “And the best way to form alliances,” he states. “Is through marriage. As an 18-year-old Crown Prince, Callum is eligible to be married, and Katolis can use his bachelor status to curry favor from the other kingdoms.”

“But he’s _not_ a bachelor,” Ezran responds. “He’s with Rayla.”

Balan grimaces. “That’s my point. Callum has selfishly cast aside his responsibilities to the Crown just so he can be with her, this elf. And why? Because of _love_?”

“My own parents married out of love!” Ezran snaps.

“But there was still a political reason for why your father married your mother,” Balan points out. “She was a noblewoman, and their marriage strengthened the Crown’s ties to one of its most important Houses. Even Harrow would have suffered consequences if he married just out of love and without any political benefit to his kingdom."

“Yet for the Crown Prince,” Balan grumbles. “He faces no consequences to speak of. Instead, he would let the Crown suffer for his choices.”

“ _Careful_ ,” Ezran warns him, anger in his voice. “This is still my brother you’re talking about. _Your_ Crown Prince you’re talking about.”

Balan refuses to relent. “Please, your Majesty, look at the wider picture!” he begs. “Think about how others are beginning to talk about your brother. Many in the royal court and elsewhere have started calling him the ‘Wild Prince.’ Whispering far worse things about him than I would ever utter to you.”

Ezran shakes his head. He’s heard talk like that before. Many of his subjects think Callum has gone native and abandoned his home for one of the assassins sent to kill his father. He’s tried to ignore these people when he can, sternly correct them when he can’t.

“Reign in your brother,” says Balan. “He’s not just your family, he’s your servant. Make sure he understands that.”

To himself, Ez decides that the best way to pacify Balan is to make him feel heard.

“Minister Balan, you make valid points,” he lies. “I’ll think over what you had said. For the time being, you’re dismissed.

Balan nods, unemotionally. “Your Majesty,” he says plainly and walks out of the throne room.

Once he leaves, Ezran stands up and walks over to the throne. A plate of jelly tarts is waiting for him next to his chair, sitting there since he arrived. He bites one, pleased they are not yet stale.

Ezran takes off his crown and slumps in his chair, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. Even after four years, these political squabbles still feel as exhausting as ever. What he would do for even a small moment of respite, or even just someone at whom he could vent…

His eyes peer over to the tray sitting to his right, containing an opened letter from Rayla. Ez had read it before, but he picks it up to glance over it again.

_Dear Ez,_

_Happy holidays! If I remember right, Katolis has a festival celebrating a new year coming up. Next year, I have to see it for myself! For now, I’m trying to convince Ibis that he makes a pit stop at the castle to drop off some presents we have for you. No luck as of yet, but I hope four years’ worth of gifts makes up for that!_

_I’m happy to hear that everything is in good hands on your end (I never had a doubt that my favorite King could do it). Don’t let those nobles push you around, and listen to Corvus and your aunt whenever you can. They are always on your side. Just…stop listening to Bait. You know better than that!_

_For us on the Storm Spire, things are fine. Zym can more than take care of himself, so the past few months have been a bit boring for my taste. Then again, after that run-in with the Tidebound elves last year, I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s been hard, whenever I think about my parents, or about Runaan, and whatever happened to them…but whenever I’m down, Callum is here to pick me right back up. You’re so lucky to have him as your brother, and I’m grateful every day that I’m with him._

_Speaking of Callum, he’s been…well, he’s been alright. He’s still his usual adorable self, but recently he’s seemed a little anxious. I think he’s glad that Zym’s fifth birthday is coming up. That way, he can come home. He really misses you, and while he’s done a great job here too, I think we both could use some time away from the Storm Spire._

_Just a few more months now, and we’ll all be together again!_

_See you soon._

_Love,_

_Rayla_

Ez smiles at the letter. It’s hard to read that his brother is feeling anxious, especially after meeting with Minister Balan. After they roll out the carpets for Callum and celebrate his homecoming, he’s going to be under a _lot_ of pressure to adjust to what’s expected of the Crown Prince. His anxiety is not going to go away anytime soon.

For now, Ezran decides it’s best to just keep the bad news to himself, at least for now. Maybe later, when Callum is feeling more himself, Ez will talk to him.

But, what about Rayla, Ez asks himself. He misses being able to talk to her too. Glancing over at her letter again, he walks over to the table again, lays out some parchment and picks up a quill.

_Dear Rayla_ , he begins.

_Everything’s fine here too_.


	5. The Cavern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardian of the Storm Spire goes about his day.

Callum enjoys the rush of cold air hitting his face as he flies toward Patola. Traveling amidst the clouds lets him cut loose a little bit as he practices some acrobatic dives and spins. Up here, Callum is one of the fastest creatures in the sky. The fact that he can go _anywhere_ he wants never gets old.

Ibis would scold him for flying so wildly. “The rush might cause you to blackout,” he would say. Callum never does, and as long as the elven mage isn’t watching him, what’s the harm?

While he always loved being able to fly, it took him some time for him to get used to it. Sky Magic, as Callum realized, required a great deal of physical exertion. It wasn’t so simple that he could just channel Primal Energy into mage wings. He then had to use his every part of his upper body—his arms, his chest, back, shoulders, and core—to actually fly over long streches of time, especially when miles away from the Storm Spire.

At first, Callum struggled. He could only fly for a few minutes at a time before he got winded and had to settle down. His back shoulders would burn with intense agony, and he couldn’t lift even his sketchbook with his exhausted arms. Those first few weeks were painful and frustrating, and Callum was distraught that maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a Sky mage.

But he didn’t give up. Nor did Ibis, for that matter. As much flack as he gave Callum, he really believed that this boy, this human who could somehow conjure mage wings, really could master all that Ibis could teach him. He kept pushing him, and the young mage would never skip a training session, no matter how fatigued. Callum would keep going, day in and day out.

And his training really paid off. Now, just four years into his life as a Sky mage, Callum can fly for hundreds of miles without needing a break. Even Zym can’t quite keep up.

Callum’s in the best shape of his life. The flying and exercise have given him a swimmer’s build, the fitness that his path as a Sky Mage demands.

He spots a dense, towering vertical cloud. Ibis calls it a “cumulonimbus” or a storm cloud. A Sky mage’s favorite destination. Smiling, Callum flies towards the storm cloud, casting a fulgur motus that bolts him straight into the middle of the storm.

The relief and the energy he feels from the intense rainfall pours new life into him. Lightning bolts fire all around him. It’s not frightening but invigorating.

He feels the shifting air, pushing clouds and vapor together, then pulling them apart. Swirling storms folding in on themselves. Feeding on the rising water, then dispersing it back to the earth. Lightning travels through the sky, between and inside the clouds, climbing down from the heavens, and back up. There is _nothing_ in this storm that is not a part of him.

His eyes are shut, but he feels all this course through him, like a sensation riding right through him.

Before long, he has to move on, a long day of dreary responsibility ahead of him. He continues on to Patola, making to the city by noon.

The city of Patola was a wonder to behold. Skywing elves lived in tall spires that reached the sky, piercing the clouds as though it held up the sky itself. The spires were connected by stone bridges, even as many elves flew through the air. Tree branches crept around the spires, not even weighed down by the various fruits hanging off of them.

He lands on a pad just outside the Aryam Temple. Sky mages from the entire continent traveled to the temple, at one point or another. If they weren’t trained there, then they would, like Callum, occasionally visit. Either to receive some wisdom or, in Callum’s case, see an old friend.

As liaison to the Dragon Queen, Ibis was given the honor of making the Aryam Temple his home as well. Very few Sky Mages rival his power, and so Ibis’ appointment seemed fitting.

Touching down, Callum sees an elf approach him. Chainmail carrying a feathery design hangs from his shoulders and partially shroud his chest.

Callum groans. _Zanthor_.

Zanthor is the Captain of the Wren Guard, which seemingly includes shooting Callum contemptuous glares or insulting remarks as part of his job description.

“Ah, so Ibis’ pet has returned back home,” he gives him an exaggerated bow. “Always a pleasure to see you again, wiglaf. I hear I may have to call you ‘Your Royal Highness’ one of these days.”

Callum rolls his eyes. He’s heard people, especially Zanthor, throw the term ‘wiglaf’ at him. It’s a nickname that, generously, means “freak” in elvish. Apparently, he’s offended some elves for his skill with magic.

“Well, I hope you don’t over-do it with all that bowing, Zanthor,” he quips. “I wouldn’t want you to break your back from of all that colorful armor you’re wearing. I don’t think the jokes from the other Wren Guard would go away any time soon.”

Callum notices his face twitch a little as he stands back up. Zanthor is enormous and towers over everyone, even Callum (much to his annoyance).

“You know,” Zanthor begins, looking at Callum square in the eyes. “These years of peacetime have been quite boring. It wasn’t that long ago I would have killed you just for standing here.”

Callum is undeterred, staring right back at him. When Callum was a scrawny 14-year old boy, he would have been frightened by someone like Zanthor. But he isn’t anymore, and even though Zanthor is bigger than him, Callum knows that, with or without magic, he can take the soldier head-on. He’s big, but he’s slow and nowhere near as strong as an elf of his size should be.

“Zanthor,” Callum says with a smug grin. “Has anyone ever taken you Sky-dancing before?” he stretches out his hands. “Ibis was the best dancing instructor I ever had! Want me to show you a thing or two?”

Zanthor grits his teeth as Callum sees him reach for his sword. Callum raises his fists.

Here we go, he thinks.

But in a flash, Ibis flies right in between them. Callum barely notices the pack over shoulders, tucked away behind his wings.

“Knock it off, you two!” he barks, as his wings fade away into arms. “ _Now!_ ”

Callum is taken aback. “…were you watching us?”

Ibis glares at him. “I didn’t need to. I know it’s always the same schoolyard nonsense between you two.” He walks over to Zanthor, and even the Wren Guard Captain lowered his gaze as he spoke.”

“You’re dismissed, _Captain_.” Ibis’ calm and deliberate tone did not hide his disapproval.

Zanthor walks off in a huff, and when he disappears from sight, Ibis rounds his glare to Callum.

“I forget how much of a child you can sometimes be,” he notes. “You know better than to rile him up! What in the world could you get from a fistfight with _him_?”

The human mage irritably crosses his arms. “You taught me magic, and I’m not supposed to stand up for myself?” He questions.

“Stand up for yourself? Yes,” Ibis points at Zanthor’s direction. “Taking part in pissing contests? I should hope I won’t have to teach you the difference.”

Callum rolls his eyes but knows Ibis is right. Zanthor’s words are harmless, and there’s nothing Callum can gain from egging him on.

While Ibis is taking his bag off his shoulders, Callum reaches for his own. “Well, I hope this makes for a good peace offering.” He pulls out a small bundle of leaves and hands it to Ibis.

“Dragon-picked tea,” Callum says with a smile. “The ones from the Storm Spire are supposed to have incredible healing benefits.”

Ibis eyes light up as he returns the smile. “Now, _this_ is a surprise! Thank you.” He takes the bundle from Callum. “I’m glad that the Dragon Queen read my letter and made this in haste! On behalf of our sick and infirmed Skywing elves, give Zubeia my gratitude.”

Callum gives Ibis a simple nod before his eyes widen. “Oh! I almost forgot something else! A gift from _me_!” Callum bends down and pulls out a haphazardly put-together amulet. Between its bindings, the amulet carries moon opals and pieces of lazurite from the Storm Spire.

“It’s for, uh, Sky-Moon Magic!” Callum exclaims. “A little something, I came up with. You can crush it to splice both forms of magic together. An illusionary gust of wind, or an invisible bolt of lightning or wall of ice.” He hands Ibis the amulet. “Or something like that. I’ve jotted down the spells I came up with to use it.”

Ibis carefully examines the amulet. “This is quite useful!” Smirking at Callum, he quips. “Quite ugly, but quite useful!”

“Oh, c’mon!” Callum angrily crosses his arms. “I’ve been practicing making these! This one is the best so far.”

Ibis chuckles. “Oh, I like that it looks like someone’s school project. That gives it a certain…charm.”

Ibis picks up his handbag. “And since we’re exchanging gifts, I was able to procure the items you requested. From the Silvergrove.”

He pulls out a small hilt carrying a blade and hands it to Callum.

“A sunforged scalpel!” Callum examines the hilt. “Perfect! This is just what I need!”

During his last visit, he had asked Ibis to visit Ethari to see if he can find such a scalpel. Callum had read that it would allow him to make more precise runes and designs for magical artifacts. He had a few in mind to protect the people on the Storm Spire.

He chuckles as he flips the scalpel in his hand. “I suppose I can start trying my hand at some low-key smithing then, huh?”

“I should remind you,” Ibis warns, his brows furrowing with worry. “That just because you’ve been good at learning magic on your own doesn’t mean you should try to learn smithing without an expert like Ethari showing you how it’s done. Do you even know anything about metallurgy?”

“Meta-what?”

He rolled his eyes. “I rest my case,” Ibis sighs. He reaches back into his bag.

“And here’s the rest of the items you asked for…earth quartz for your Earth spells, a Light Lattice for healing, a few Tidebound rods to detect incoming threats around the Spire, and…” Ibis eyes Callum as he hands him a box directly into his palm.

“Moon Tea,” Ibis says.

Callum’s face flushes bright red. “O-oh! Uh, thank you!” he grabs it out of the mage’s hand. “Let’s just tuck that one away for now!”

As Callum inelegantly stuffs the box of Moon Tea into his bag, Ibis gives him a small smirk. “You know, Callum, if the two of you were so worried about having children, you could have—"

“Uh, thank you! Kind mage!” Callum shoots to his feet, scratching the back of his head. “That’s something Rayla and I have talked _quite_ a bit about, so I think we have it all figured out.”

Ibis lets out a good-hearted laugh. “Very well, then.”

Truth be told, Callum is _so_ _fond_ of her. During the day, between their duties as Dragonguard and Guardian, they hardly cross paths, let alone have a moment to themselves. But in the mornings and night, they can spend an untold number of hours just being intimate with one another. His hand might be in her hair, while hers on his chest. They would laugh, they would cuddle, they would kiss.

He realizes how little he knew about love before finding it with Rayla, but now that Callum has, he’s just amazed and enthralled by her and everything she does. She’s so incredible, and she carries such a level of grace in everything she does. Every so often, he realizes that he’s even _more_ in love with her now than ever before.

He snaps out of it just as he sees Ibis reach back into his bag. He thinks it’s another item he needs, but instead he takes out two bottles. Callum is a little confused; he did not remember asking for anything in liquid form.

“What is this?”

Ibis grins. “Sky ale. Brewed and fermented on the highest peaks of Xadia. I thought you could probably use one to relax.”

Callum lets out a soft chuckle. “I probably shouldn’t drink if I’m going to be flying.”

Ibis gives a simple shrug. “It’s up to you,” he says with a knowing wink. “I won’t tell anyone.”

The prince sighs. “Oh, alright. One wouldn’t hurt.”

Taking one of the bottles, Ibis opens the remaining one in his hand. The two mages sit on the steps of Aryam Temple, alone amidst the grand columns and spires around the shrine. A deep silence pierces Patola, with only the wind and the rustling of trees keeping Ibis and Callum company.

It’s been a few years since they’ve had a strictly master/student relationship. Callum had long surpassed Ibis in skill, learning abilities—such as fulgur motus—that even Ibis cannot perform. Now, instead they get to enjoy their time as peers. As friends.

The temple sits up high above the rest of Patola. From the steps, they can see skywing elves moving to and fro about the city.

“This is all still so amazing to me,” Callum says. “It’s been years, and I’m just still so fascinated by this place. Patola is so beautiful!”

“Yea?” he hears Ibis answer, as he takes a sip of his ale. “Do you think you might want to settle down here after your time on the Storm Spire is done?”

Callum shrugs. “I think I’ll probably go back to Katolis. If I could, at least.” Drinking from his bottle, he ponders. “I want to come to Patola as often as I can, but I want to go back home as well…maybe I might just become an ambassador? Just so that I can come back here all the time.”

The elven mage lets out a chuckle. “Ah, a liaison, then? Following in my footsteps, I see.” He smiles as he raises an eyebrow, looking at Callum. “But I do worry if your…tact could use some work.”

Callum groans. “Oh, fine. Maybe you still have a thing or two to teach me, after all this time.”

“Well, the first step: no more picking fights.”

“So wise,” Callum teases. “Anything else?”

Ibis suppresses a smile. “If anyone asks you for a dance, you should firmly say no. Your clumsiness might just start a war.”

Callum gapes at him, before tossing a bit of ale at the snickering elf. “Bold mage, you are! I think I’ll just take my chances without your help!”

After finishing his drink, Callum bids Ibis a good day and places his bag over his shoulders. Summoning his mage wings, he takes flight once more.

On his way back to the Spire, Callum flew past the same dull woods and fields as before. In the corner of his eye, Callum spots a vast lake, sprawling over the horizon and carving little rivers into the landscape.

Grinning, Callum decides to take the route less traveled. Banking right, he flies over the clear, flat water, remnants of sunlight sparkling beneath him. The air smells different here, less dry, and much cooler. A little further in the lake, Callum could see some of the fish and seaweed beneath him.

But the silhouette of a large, winged creature passes over the fish, overtaking them but still below the waves. Callum peeked down and flew a bit closer to the water to get a better look.

But the water turned foamy white as a creature suddenly emerges, knocking Callum off course. The force of the waves rolls him in the air. Grunting, he quickly stabilizes himself and hears the roar of a Tidebound dragon behind him.

Turning his head, he gets a better look at the dragon. He can see it’s a young one. Young, but excited and still a bit feral, and has Callum in its sights.

Growling, it chases after the sky mage. Callum doesn’t want to hurt it, so he flies under its belly as it gnashes its teeth. But the Tidebound dragon, strengthened by the Ocean Primal, is undeterred, whirling around to take aim at the prince.

The dragon shoots high-pressure water at him, which Callum effortlessly dodges. It’s a powerful beast, but nowhere near as fast or agile as the winged mage. He dances around the dragon, hoping it would eventually give up and fly away.

But the rowdy creature was relentless, pestering Callum and remaining on his tail. But it can’t hurt him, not unless Callum lets it hit him.

Spotting a shoreline, he sees his exit.

“Fulgur motus.” Callum zips over to the beach. But the dragon wasn’t easily fooled and spots him again. As it flies over to the shore, Callum lets his wings fade away. It’s time to end this.

“Aspiro!” Callum blows water into the air, bending the gust with his arms to wall off the dragon from the shore. He swiftly draws another rune with both hands.

“Aspiro frigis!” The wall of water solidifies, sealing the shore from the dragon by a wall of ice. He hears the dragon pounds against the ice for a bit, before finally giving up and flying away.

Smirking, Callum sits and waits a few minutes. He enjoys the moment of silence getting the dragon off his back had earned him. It had given him a bit of a workout, though nothing he wasn’t used to.

When the waves settled down, Callum gets back up to his feet, using both arms to draw another rune.

“Turben impetus!” He throws a fist, and the ice shatters as the force of a cyclone strikes the wall. Easy task.

As Callum raised his arms to summon mage wings again, he suddenly feels goosebumps form on the back of his neck. Something in the air, he feels as though there’s an…abrupt and halting emptiness here. Like a cold front but laid bare.

He knits his eyebrows, and concern covers his face. Turning around, he spots a cavern on the edge of the shore. Checking the sun, he sees he still has plenty of time before sunfall. He decides he has time to explore for the time being, so he lays down the pack on the ground and walks over to the mouth of the cave.

The dreadfully cold air leaving the cavern feels uncomfortable, especially as Callum stands under the warm, glistening sun. Nevertheless, he enters, pulling out a small Sun gem from his pocket.

“Luminos,” he whispers as he crushes it. Light emanates from his palm and brightens the damp cave. He sees the tunnel stretching as far as the spell’s light can reach, so he walks forward. Callum keeps walking, cautiously and carefully, before stepping in something wet.

Lifting his boot, Callum groans in disgust.

“Ugh!” He shouts. It has some sticky texture, and slushes under his sole. Callum looks around and sees the same mush all around the cave. Stepping through the grime, he follows the residue, as though it’s a trail leading him through the maze of grottos.

Callum stops in his tracks and beholds at a massive site before him.

It’s a cocoon. Or at least the remains of one, slowly liquefying and washing away. A giant gaping hole had punctured a large chrysalis. Whatever creature made it must have been long gone.

“This is something else,” he whispers to himself. He’s seen many fascinating Xadian creatures in the past few years, but never something that could make a cocoon as massive as this.

It looks disgusting, and it reeks of some foul stench. Callum never knew _anything_ could smell that bad.

Still, he’s curious what happened, so he fumbles through his pocket, and pulls out a moon opal. Perhaps a few months, he tells himself. That should be enough time ago to see what this was before.

With his mind wandering back to a few months ago, and he crushes the opal.

“Historium viventum.”

The spell cloaks the cavern in a bright glow, encompassing the entire room. Sparks of light outline the walls and rocks around Callum, but before him, he sees…

…nothing. The cocoon is replaced with literal nothingness, just a pitch-black hole, darker than any shade of black Callum has ever seen. He’s even less clear of what it was before, but he knows for sure that this creature can somehow negate this spell, as though hiding itself from any magic. But there’s no living thing that could resist Moon Magic in that way.

As he’s lost in thought, the image of a person walks right through Callum. He’s startled, a little surprised at the intrusion, but even more confused as to why someone was here.

From the back, this person looks familiar. It’s a woman, carrying some kind of staff, much like a Sunfire staff he’s seen in drawings, but this one seems a bit out of place. The same pitch darkness that shrouds the cocoon cloaks the center of the staff.

Half of the woman’s hair is white, the other dark. She has the resemblance of a young girl, someone…

“…no,” Callum mutters. It can’t be!

His heart racing, he slowly sneaks around to see her front, dreading what he’ll find. But even when fearing the worst, his heart spikes when he finds himself staring face to face with Claudia.

He knew Claudia went missing, but no one had been able to find her. How could she have been here, in Xadia, this close to the Storm Spire, without anyone catching on?!

She’s looking grim, gazing at whatever was in the blocked part of his vision. Even in her cheerlessness, she is still looking pleased with whatever is before her.

As Callum continues to gape in stunned silence, he sees another figure step into his field of vision, right beside Claudia and rocks Callum to his very core.

He knows this man all too well. He’s Callum’s height, middle-aged, and sporting a greying goatee. He has a look in his eyes, a combination of vengefulness and triumph.

It’s impossible. But somehow, he survived.

Somehow, he’s returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the plot finally arrives!
> 
> As for spells today:
> 
> "Luminos" simply translates to light. It's a sun spell that lets the mage emanate light from the palm of their hand (much like Claudia was able to do in Season 1.
> 
> "Turben impetus!” means tornado attack, and lets the mage to throw a punch with the force of a whirlwind. This is essentially the "tornado punch" that Rayla mentioned in Season 3.


	6. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon learning the truth, Callum races back to the Spire.

Callum stumbles out of the cave, his heart racing, before staggering to his knees.

The blood pounded in his ears. His heart thudded in his chest. His hands shook. His feet went numb, his vision disfigured and warped as if he were looking through a fish-eye lens. He had to get away. He rose to his feet. He had to get away from that damned cave.

All of Callum’s fears of Viren came back to the surface. Since the fight on the pinnacle, Callum was always afraid, no matter how irrational or how subdued that fear was, that he could lose Rayla. That if he’s not careful enough, or not fast enough, or not strong enough, that in an instant he would lose her forever.

And now that Viren had _survived_ the fall, all those fears, resting in his subconscious, come rushing back.

He stumbles as he tries to walk and falls back to his knees. Callum can feel his heart trying to burst from his chest, and his breath hitches in his throat, unable to draw air.

So, he tries to look around and say what he sees.

“Shoreline,” he gasps.

Looking to his left. “Trees.”

Looking to his right. “Cliff.”

Callum’s pulse returns to normal, and his breathing becomes calmer. Steadying himself, he rises to his feet.

But he doesn’t forget what he saw. Clenching his fists, he _knows_ he has to get back to the Spire as fast as possible.

Callum races over to pick up the bag he left on the beach, barely slowing his sprint.

“Manus! Pluma! Volantus!” he says, without stopping. He takes flight once more, pushing himself more than he had ever done, all to get back to the Spire.

He pushes his way up into the sky and through the clouds. “Fulgur Motus!” he yells, and his body shoots forth toward the horizon.

Cloud formations zip past him. The ground beneath him goes dark as the sun begins to set. Yet, from his altitude, the sun’s glow remains strong.

There’s still time.

Callum returns to the pinnacle just at dusk. His fatigue catches up to him, and he crouches down and wipes the sweat from his brow. It takes a few minutes for him to catch his breath.

Returning to his feet, he hears footsteps behind him and looks over his shoulder.

It’s Rayla, still in her Dragonguard uniform.

“Callum,” she playfully scolds. “You keep pushing yourself like that, and we may need to find a replacement Guardian.”

Rayla begins to walk up to him, not noticing his unease. “Still, I’m not complaining to have you back this early, I was thinking we could look—"

In an instant that surprised even Callum, he seizes her arms and looks into her eyes.

“Please tell me everyone is safe! No one’s come here, right?” She freezes. “Rayla!!”

Rayla looks at him, shocked and confused. And for the first time towards him, frightened.

“W-what’s gotten into you?” she asks as she tries to pull away.

“Rayla,” he repeats. “ _Is everyone safe_?”

He sees her shrink back. “Callum…please let go. You are hurting me.”

His senses return to him, and Callum lets go. Guilt and shame swarm him as Rayla rubs the part of her arms where he grabbed her.

In the last four years, he had _never_ seized her like that. Callum was always so gentle with her until now. What he found in that cave rocked him to his core, and he did not feel in control of himself.

“R-rayla…”

She looks at him and places a hand on his head. She combs her fingers through his hair. “Everyone is safe, Callum…what happened?” Rayla moves his face to face hers. “What’s wrong?”

Callum takes a few calming breaths. “Is the Dragon Queen still awake?”

Rayla nods. “At least for the next hour or so.”

“I need to speak with her.”

Rayla doesn’t understand. “What did you find?”

He looks at her grimly, his eyebrows furrow, and his lips quiver with fear and dread. “It’s Viren…he’s alive. And he’s with Claudia.”

Rayla is silent as her hand drops to her side. Her face goes pale, and she bows her head as though she was struck in the back by a club.

Callum knows that she’s always been unable to believe he was gone. She had always felt that something as trivial as a fall, even from that high up, couldn’t kill someone like Viren. Rayla insisted that a High Mage must have had something up his sleeve to save himself. It made sense—she fought him and knew what he was capable of.

But he was unconvinced. They never found his body, and in four years, no one had seen him, but even so, it was simply impossible for Callum to imagine Viren being alive all this time.

Perhaps he didn’t want to, knowing how close he came to taking Rayla’s life.

But she was right. Yet, Callum sees her cold horror; even though she suspected he could return, even she was shocked by it.

“Queen Zubeia needs to hear this,” she says. “Immediately.”

***

As he tells her everything, Callum can see the multitude of expressions that appear across Zubeia’s face. Aghast, appalled, horrified, dumbstruck.

But more than anything else, befuddled.

“How Viren could have been alive all this time with no one finding out?”

Callum frowns. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But when I did a spell to see what happened, part of the cave was somehow obstructed from my vision, even under _historia viventum…_ I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Only Dark Magic could do that,” the Queen asserts. “ _Powerful_ Dark Magic. We must all take great care, Callum. Whatever it was, it must have been imbued with immense power."

Callum folds his arms. “Viren and Claudia have a four-year head start on us. The longer they are out there, the stronger they’ll become. Until we find them, none of us are safe.”

He looks over at Rayla and feels isolated from her. Even standing just a few feet away, he feels his heart yearn for her. Callum _wants_ to be here, with _her_. But he knows what he _needs_ to do.

Callum looks back at the Dragon Queen. “Queen Zubeia,” he begins. “The cavern is in the Sunfire elf territory. With your leave, I must travel to Lux Aurea and speak with Queen Janai so that I can begin the search for Viren and Claudia.”

Zubeia simply moves her head closer to the duo. “You are the Guardian of the Storm Spire, Callum,” she instructs him. “Your duty is to protect the Sky Nexus, but _you_ must decide the best way to fulfill this responsibility. If that includes traveling to the Sunfire territory, then that is in your purview.”

That was all the advice the Dragon Queen had for Callum before sending him and Rayla away. Outside in the antechamber, he notices Rayla’s sullen look. Callum meekly and nervously extends his hand and breathes a sigh of relief when she takes it without hesitation.

They walk in silence until they return to their quarters. The room is a bit snug and cozy, containing only a bed, a desk, and a window. There’s just enough closest space for the clothes they have, and very little else.

This room used to belong to Tiadrin and Lain—Rayla’s parents. When they were part of the Dragonguard, they lived here just as he and Rayla do now. It may not give her closure, but Rayla does receive a bit of peace from being able to live where they once did.

Rayla is silent, deep in thought as Callum walks in front of her, rolls up her sleeves, and examines her arms. No bruising.

She’s quiet, but she lets him touch her.

“Rayla,” he breathes. “I’m so, so sorry. I should never have gripped you like that. I don’t know why I snapped, I…”

He trails off as she shakes her head.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. Looking up at Callum, she smiles, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I love you, Callum. I don’t blame you for panicking.”

She stands on the edge of her toes, lifting herself up to kiss him. Callum bends down and meets her halfway.

“I love you too,” he says with a smile.

Hers disappears. “Whatever Viren has been scheming all these years, it’s going to be awful. And if he’s with Claudia, it’s going to be much worse.”

Rayla’s eyes grow sad. “Which means you _do_ have to leave. You _have_ to find them before whatever they’re planning is finished…however long it takes you.”

Callum dolefully nods his head. “You’re right. And that might take several weeks. The Sunfire territory is huge. Even with Queen Janai’s help, it’ll be a while before we can track them down.”

She chuckles. “It’s strange to think that, ever since we first said we love each other four years ago, we’ve never spent more than a day apart.” Rayla shrugs and admits. “I can’t believe how hard it is for me to see you go for so long…I’ve never been so attached to someone the way I am with you.”

Callum’s gazes at her. “I’m going to come back…I’m _always_ going to come back.”

As he lifts his hand to brush her hair from her eyes, she suddenly embraces him. Callum’s thrown off a bit; he wasn’t expecting her to throw her arms over his shoulders and around his head. But it’s a relief to have her this close, and he brings his arms around her.

They stand there for a minute before Rayla speaks.

“If Janai is going to have you for the next few weeks…” she begins. “…then I get to have you tonight.”

She takes a few steps back and looks into his eyes. She extends an arm.

“Your shirt,” she says. “Give it to me.”

Callum snorts but does as he’s told. He takes off his shirt and hands it to her. She simply lets it fall carelessly to her side. With a knowing smile, she begins to unclasp her shoulder plates and armor and lay them down as well. Rayla pulls off the exterior layer to her clothes, until she’s just wearing her tunic.

She pauses and tilts her head, looking thoughtfully at Callum.

He’s confused. “…Aren’t you going to undress now?”

Rayla shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I want _you_ to undress me.”

He chuckles and walks up to her. Carefully, he slides her tunic off her, followed by her smallclothes.

Until there’s nothing left between them.

“You know,” Callum begins, with a cheeky grin across his face. “It’s going to be cold tonight.”

With a flushed face, she smiles. “Then keep your Rayla warm,” she whispers as she puts her lips on Callum’s.

As their kiss deepens, Callum walks them towards the bed. Gently, he brings his arms around her and lifts her off the ground. She hums appreciatively, and Callum places both of them on the bed as their embrace tightens, their limbs wrapping around each other as their ardor grows.

Somewhere out of sight, the Moon and Sky runes on the Key of Aaravos begin to glow intermittently, flashing between one and the other.

***

Callum wakes up first.

He sees the first light of dawn peeking through the window. Callum is lying on his side, and in front of him, he finds Rayla in his arms.

Their legs are tangled together, their chests pressed against one another. Rayla had tucked her head under his, pressing her cheek against his neck. He feels her calm, gentle breathing on his chest.

Callum knows she enjoys sleeping like this, with her arms slipped under his, and his arms wrapped around her and holding her close (she calls him her “Callum blanket”).

If he had to be honest, he does too; he almost lost her once, because he wasn’t near her. Now, he feels as long as he has his arms around her, he can never let her down again.

But now, if he wanted to protect her, and everyone, he has to leave. He has to go find Viren and Claudia before whatever they are planning is finished.

Callum shifts himself a bit to see Rayla, resting against him. She’s _beautiful_ , he thinks. Even now, her mouth slightly agape as she sleeps, she’s the most gorgeous woman he’s ever met.

The entire time he’s known her, she’d been the most amazing person in Callum’s life. She’s fast, she’s skilled, she’s brave, she’s selfless.

She’s a hero.

Callum must have moved, because he feels Rayla stir against him. Her eyes flutter open, and she looks up at him. A small smile forms on her lips.

He couldn’t help but return her a grin as well.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

Rayla nods. “Thanks to you,” she chuckles as she pulls some of the covers over them. “You were… _very_ passionate last night.”

Callum feels his cheeks turn hot. “Okay, _great_ way of putting me on the spot this early in the morning!”

“Good to know I can still make you flustered!” She chuckles. “I was worried you’ve gotten too comfortable around me.”

He places a hand on her cheek. “I guess that makes two of us.” He puts a kiss on her lips, trying to draw it out for as long as possible.

Pulling away, he notes the seriousness in her eyes. Rayla knows what Callum’s thinking at the moment.

Even so, he gives voice to his thoughts.

“I don’t want to go,” he says. “I don’t want to leave you. Being without you…seems wrong.”

Rayla shakes her head. “Going after Viren and Claudia is _right_.” She puts her hands on his shoulders. “Zym is home, there’s peace between humans and elves, but the two mages who started this all are still out there. You _need_ to finish this.”

Callum nods. Her comfort gives him strength and support. “I love you, you know?” he tells her. “Whenever I don’t know what I should do, I always ask myself, ‘What would _Rayla_ do?’ You’re my hero, Rayla. You’ve always been.”

Her gaze turns abashed, and she tries to look away from him. “You dummy,” her voice cracks. “Now, _I’m_ flustered!”

He gently kisses her again. “It’s the truth.”

“Well,” she begins. “It just so happens that these days I ask myself ‘What would _Callum_ say I should do?’” She places her hands over his, letting their fingers intertwine. “And what he would say is— ‘Go and save the day!’ And that’s exactly what I’m telling you now.”

Her gaze returns to his eyes. “Go and be the hero I know you are. You’re the strongest mage of your generation. Probably the strongest of _any_ generation. If anyone’s going to save the day this time, it’s you.”

Rayla’s lips curl into a smile. “Besides,” she continues. “There’s a way you can always take some part of me with you.”

She rolls over and leaps out of bed. Rayla gracefully slips on one of Callum’s jackets, effortlessly tossing it over her. It’s become apparent to him that she doesn’t hesitate to wear his clothes. The sleeves are too long for Rayla’s arms, and the coat is so big for her she’s practically disappeared into it! Yet, Callum finds it all adorable and sweet.

Fumbling around by the desk, she finally finds what she’s looking for. Pulling it out and unfurling the garment, she holds it out to Callum.

It’s a metal lotus, from the Silvergrove. Its center is still glowing, and Callum immediately recognizes its unique hue.

It’s _Rayla’s_ lotus.

Callum gets up and walks over to her.

“I asked Ethari to send it to me,” Rayla says as she hands the lotus to Callum. “Carry this with you. As long as it’s lit…you know I’m alive, and you won’t have to worry.”

He stares at the lotus for the longest time. It’s heavier knowing its significance. Even though Ethari makes countless ones like it, to Callum, this lotus is priceless without measure.

His heart. His love.

Inspiration crosses Callum’s eyes.

“I have something for you too!” He exclaims and carefully places the lotus back on the desk. He runs to the foot of the bed and picks up his scarf.

Callum holds it out to her. “If you’re giving me your lotus, you should take the scarf and keep it until I come back.” He winks at her. “It’s good luck, remember?”

Rayla lets out a chuckle and places a hand on her lips. “I’m never letting it out of my sight.”

Callum nods and begins to wrap the scarf around her. His eyes remain fixed to the fabric as he places the scarf neatly on her neck.

He notices that she’s staring at his work too. Callum carefully lifts his head while she does the same, and their eyes meet one another.

They look at each other, both with a sober stare. It’s only for a moment, but in Callum’s mind, the moment stretches for eternity.

He gives her a soft smile, and Rayla’s head suddenly shoots forward, her lips crashing into his. Though he’s surprised, he kisses her back just as deeply, just as urgently.

Pulling away, she smiles at him.

“You come back to me, Prince Callum,” she says to him.

His voice is barely above a whisper. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while! Midterms have been brutal! 
> 
> Just as an FYI, in addition to continuing "The Mystery of Aaravos," I've teamed up with the Red-Haired Monkey (check out her tumbler page, it's awesome!) to write a separate fic. It's a prequel to the upcoming TDP graphic novel, and will be called "Before the Moon." Stay tuned!


	7. The Good Kingdon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezran receives a guest, while Soren explores a mystery.

Soren stands at the ready, right next to and slightly behind the young King, both standing with a procession of Katolian officials just inside the castle gates. They were waiting at attention for a little over a half-hour as the delegation from Duren made its way through the town and approached Katolis Castle.

He notices Ezran’s fingers twitch, visibly channeling anxiety. The weather is still mild, yet Soren sees Ez sweating bullets.

“Relax,” Soren whispers, placing a calming hand on Ez’s shoulder. “You’ve received delegates, officials, and even Kings and Queens before! This is no different.”

“Yea,” Ez answers. “But the Queen of Duren is supposed to be a bit…direct. And _very_ sharp-witted. And, well...just all-around amazing. She’s been at this whole monarch thing for almost as long as I’ve been alive!” He sighs. “All of Katolis is counting on me to lead them. What if I can’t keep up with her?”

Soren quickly puts the pieces together. “ _Oh_ , sounds like what you’re _really_ scared of is making a bad first impression.” he chuckles and leans in. “Ez, it sounds like you might have a crush!”

He feels Ezran elbow him in the stomach. “At attention, Crownguard!” he sternly replies. Though Soren can see a soft smile on Ez’s face.

At least for the moment, Soren got the King to cheer up. _Mission accomplished_ , he grins.

The visitors from Duren pour through the castle gates in a river of white cloaks and bright steel. Over three dozen of Aanya’s knights and sworn swords enter the castle. Over their heads, a dozen blue and white banners whipped back and forth in the howling wind, emblazoned with the golden flower of Duren.

However, Queen Aanya is nowhere to be found.

Ezran and Soren exchange looks. “Um, where’s the Queen?” asks Ez.

One of Duren’s knights dismounts and approaches the King of Katolis.

“My apologies, your Majesty,” he says dryly. “But the Queen arrived at Katolis Castle earlier in the morning, before dawn and in the cover of night.”

Ezran tilts his head in confusion. “W-why?”

“She likes to ride alone,” the knight plainly responds.

Ezran scratches the back of his head, while Soren looks to the other guards. “Has anyone seen her?” No one responds.

Soren spots a robed adviser sprint from within the castle, running up to the King so quickly that Soren instinctively places a hand on the hilt of his blade when he approaches.

“Forgive me, your Majesty!” he exclaims, panting as he speaks. “But we’ve found the Queen…she’s in the training courtyard and awaits your arrival.”

Ez looks over at Soren before taking off into the castle. Stunned, Soren chases after him.

“Wait, King Ezran!”

He’s a bit surprised how swift the young King is, as Soren tries his best to keep up.

_What’s he thinking?_ Soren ponders. _Leaving the rest of Duren’s delegates to awkwardly wait up?_

Soren knows Ez pretty well now. Ezran usually has better instincts than this when it comes to his responsibilities as King. Running off like that without a word…is not one of his best moments.

Ezran and Soren come to the training courtyard to find Aanya. Soren notices that she has set up several target boards on the far side of the yard.

Armed with a bow, she locks an arrow and fires at one of the targets, hitting it dead center. Soren sees that several other target boards have a couple arrows piercing through their bullseye.

Her aim is flawless.

When she sees them approach her, Aanya places the bow down.

“Sorry for the surprise,” she says. “But after countless coups and assassination attempts, I survive by taking every precaution.”

Ez raises a brow. “By sneaking into the castle before sunrise? Katolis is a safe place, your Grace. You don’t need to worry about assassins here.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “Maybe so, but old habits die hard. Besides…” she brushes her hair out of her eyes. “…where’s the fun in going through the front door?”

She walks up to shake hands with Ezran. The fourteen-year-old Aayna is rather statuesque; she’s roughly Soren’s height and stands a head taller than Ez. Her blonde hair had grown to her shoulders, and she still wears the same black detached sleeves with gold accents and a flower pattern above the wrists. Over her pale-blue dress, she wears a gold gorget with a blue gem at the base of her neck.

“I’ve been waiting for quite a while, and I was wondering when people would catch on,” she comments. “And I should warn you, King Ezran, it took no effort at all to sneak in. There were many holes in your castle’s security, so I trust you do better in filling them up.”

“Uh, well, um, yea…” Ezran stammers a bit, his face flushed as he scratches the back of his head. This is the first time that Soren’s ever seen the King at a loss for words.

Aanya motions to Soren. “You’re…Soren, the Crownguard Captain, right?”

Soren nods, dutifully.

“I’ll leave my notes with you on how Katolis can improve the castle’s security. I hope you read them carefully.”

Dumbfounded, Soren clears his throat. “Uh, thank you?”

Aanya turns her attention to Ezran. “I didn’t see your brother this morning. Is he here in the castle today?”

“Callum is still in Xadia, on his assignment,” answers Ezran.

“I see,” she muses. “I don’t think I’ve ever been properly introduced to the prince, but I suppose that will have to wait for another time.”

Ez nods his head. “He owes you his life.”

Aanya chuckles. “Perhaps one day, he can repay me!”

She looks again at Soren. “If you would be so kind, I want to speak to the King in private. Members of the Children of Pharos have been coming into Duren and bringing some…questionable practices.”

Her eyes soften as she looks at Soren. She wasn’t condescending. Instead, there was genuine concern in her gaze, as though she didn’t want to unsettle him.

“I think this is a matter best to be discussed between monarchs,” she says, in an uncharacteristically quietly tone.

Soren exchanges a glance with Ezran, who smiles gently. “I’ll be alright, Soren,” he says.

Soren nods his head. “Very well, as you wish. I’ll just…do a patrol of the castle, I guess.”

He leaves the King and Queen in the courtyard, walking toward the battlements on the outer edge of the castle.

Soren walks around the perimeter of the castle. The walk gave him some time—the first in a long while—to be alone with just his thoughts.

It’s been four years since the end of the war. Soren has had to adjust to a life without his father and sister around. Ezran has become more to him than just the King he protects. The two are almost inseparable, like a second family.

Despite his kingly authority and responsibility, Soren sees Ezran almost as a little brother. The two might play tag in the castle, or Ez might show animal friends he made. Ez and Soren might sit down to have lunch together, or play board games with Amaya, Corvus, Opeli, and Ez’s other loved ones.

Even so, Soren has had trouble adjusting to being here without his family. He tried to find some stability and identity beyond just that of a Crownguard, but it was hard not to feel lonely on occasion. Even with Ezran, Soren has to respect the fact that, most of the time, his role requires him to keep things formal.

But, in his darkest moments, he finds that Gren’s company usually helps ground him. In these past four years, they too have grown close, and Gren can _always_ make him feel better.

He makes his way along the battlements leading up to Viren’s former tower. It feels strange walking inside, a combination of dread and sadness. He always wanted to make his father proud. Still, Soren was never comfortable with Dark Magic, and so he always came up short in Viren’s eyes. The tower reminded him of that, as well as the destruction and misery that Dark Magic is capable of.

Soren walks into the main chamber, finding most of its items and artifacts had been removed. The dungeon that was found behind a painting was cleared out. The remains of various creatures he kept trapped there were disposed of. By order of the King, all ingredients and references to Dark Magic were destroyed.

All that remained were Viren’s staff—which the Dark Mage had left behind on the Storm Spire—and a mirror.

Claudia told Soren that Viren became obsessed with this mirror in his last days. When he relayed this to Ezran, the King had both the mirror and the staff stored in the tower, hoping that Callum might be able to make sense of them when he returns.

But that was four years ago. Callum still hadn’t returned home. Not even once. His duties as Guardian kept him quite busy, far and away from Katolis.

Soren wonders what he might look like now. Boys typically grow quite a bit at Callum’s age. He imagines he might look something like a younger Viren—skinny and bearded, with his head always in a book. Perhaps Callum’s gotten a bit taller, but Soren still imagines the kid he used to train. Although Ezran had read Rayla’s more recent description of him, and the young King told Soren he should be…pleasantly surprised when he sees Callum again.

Truth be told, Soren misses the little nerd. He may have picked on him, but he was like a little brother to him too, much like Ezran is now. At times, Soren felt he had more in common with Callum than he did with Claudia. While Soren never really opened up to him, Callum was able to understand Soren better than his sister could.

But even Soren could pick up that, after everything that had happened, even kindhearted Callum kept Soren at arm’s length. Following the Battle of the Storm Spire, Callum barely said two words to him before Soren left with Ezran back home.

Soren gets it. He really does. Considering what Soren had done, what he was _prepared_ to do, it’s clear why Callum might be a little standoffish with him.

Soren sighs and places a hand against the mirror…before he notices that there’s no gap between his hand and the reflection.

_Interesting_ , Soren thinks. _That’s…not supposed to happen with mirrors._

He learned about the mirrors at Lux Aurea from Janai, used to channel Primal Energy into the Sun Forge. During one of her visits, she explained to him how mirrors and glass reflect light differently. When it’s a mirror, there’s a gap between the reflection and the object pressed against the surface.

Confused, he raises his hand, places his fingernail against the mirror, and sure enough…no gap. As though the mirror is actually some kind of one-way looking glass.

He checks the back panel, but there’s nothing.

_Strange_ , Soren ponders. _It’s designed so that someone can see through it from the other side._

But who can peer through from the other side? Did that have something to do with Viren’s obsession?

Soren was confused. But it was a different type of confusion than what he’s used to. Sometimes he might not know what’s going on, which leaves him a bit turned around.

But here, he’s confused because he knows that _something_ is wrong. Whatever that might be.

Soren leaves the tower, but this puzzle stays with him, leaving an imprint in the back of his mind.

A reminder of his father’s obsession.


	8. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla and Callum each reflect on their time apart.

Getting ready that first morning alone was difficult. Not sad, just difficult. As though there’s too much bed now, and Rayla occupies so little of it. The quiet in their room seems almost unnatural, filling the void with uncomfortable silence.

As she dons her Dragon Guard uniform, she notices the red scarf hanging over the chair, and with only a moment’s hesitation, she grabs it and ties it around her neck. It clashes with the rest of her uniform, but she doesn’t care. _Rayla_ likes it, and that’s all that really matters.

She walks to the antechamber, marching proudly past Tyene, noticing the mark of scorn and disapproval in her face.

“It’s called a uniform for a reason,” Tyene snidely remarks. Rayla barely paid her any heed and continued walking into the central hub. There, she sees the Dragon Queen, peacefully sleeping with her son, snuggled against her. As big as Zym had gotten, he was still such a wee thing next to his mum. He is still no bigger than her head, though, in just four years, he had quite a growth spurt. It’s going to be amazing to imagine how big he’s gonna get by the time she, Callum, and Ezran are all grown up as well. Scary, but also amazing.

_All grown up_ , Rayla wonders. In many ways, they already _are_ grown up. She and Callum are no longer children. They are adults by the law of every people and kingdom in the world. And while Ezran may be the same age as Callum was when they left Katolis, he carries the weight of his entire people on his shoulders.

Ez had to end his childhood pretty early, which Rayla can relate to. Hearing Callum talk about his life, she's reminded of all the leisure and frivolous fun he got to enjoy. The kind of fun that was simply not allowed in her strict, duty-oriented Moonshadow culture. Now, duty and leadership have to be Ez’s primary concern.

But it’s just like Callum being away now. Not sad, but difficult, and the way things have to be right now.

Her thoughts are interrupted as the cavern shook. Zym and Zubeia were stirred from their slumber, and Rayla’s protective instincts sprung into action. Racing outside, she comes face to face with three giant dragons. One of them is distinctly an Earth dragon.

“Dragon Guard,” he spoke with a rough, gravelly voice. “You must be a young one, or you indeed don’t remember that one must bow when standing before Rex Igneous.”

Rayla’s heart rate picks up. She remembers hearing stories of the Earth Archdragon, stories she once told Callum. But he only emerges aboveground every century or so. Why was he here?

She kneels before him. The other members of the Dragon Guard join her, bowing as the Dragon Queen and Prince emerge from the antechamber.

Rex Igneous sees the humans before him, and gasps in shock.

“The butchers of magical creatures are here?! Trusted with the life of the most important dragon in the world?!” He roars and sneers at Zubeia. “You put your son’s life in grave danger by keeping these humans near him!”

Rayla watches Zubeia grimace. “You’ve missed much, hiding in your buried kingdom. These humans here had all defended my son, risking their lives to save his!”

The Earth dragon growls. “Foxes now guard the henhouse? You’ve brought danger to the Storm Spire.”

His steps a step forward, and he raises his great torso, as though preparing to lunge. Rayla looks over at Tyene, who simply stands there, brows furrowing in worry, hands clenched into fists. Spats between dragons are not uncommon, but are always destructive, especially to those poor souls who happen to be nearby. If he and Zubeia go at it, there may not be much of a Dragon Guard, or even a Storm Spire, left.

“ _Enough_!” exclaims the Dragon Queen. “State your business, so that we may be rid of you!”

Rex gives a poisonous glare, and for a hot minute, looks as though he might go on the offense. But he finally relents, taking a step backward and letting one more grunt be the end of it.

“Four months,” he says, as though making a declaration. “And your son reaches his fifth birthday, and takes the mantle once held by your husband.” Rex looks over at Zym, still small but grown enough that he’s no longer intimidated by the Earth dragon. Rayla notes a look of _defiance_ in the dragonling’s eyes.

“Avizandum was a great king,” the Earth Dragon noted. “Wise, and just, and he had my respect.”

_Of course, you would say that_ , Rayla thinks. Avizandum ruled over the skies, and so was content with allowing Rex to govern the caverns beneath them.

“The arrangement that I had with the Dragon King—that I have with you now, Zubeia—has brought stability to Xadia. I come here, asking that your son continue this arrangement.”

Zubeia’s eyes narrow. “You can ask him yourself. _After_ he becomes King of the Dragons, and you swear your allegiance to him. Not before. I’m sorry you’ve come all this way, seeking to bargain and haggle for your power. But my son will make his own decisions when it is time.”

Rex growls and grumbles, but it appears to Rayla that with age his bark has become worse than his bite. Dragons may be powerful, but even an Archdragon never wants to appear as power-hungry, least of all in front of elves. The reason that the elves and lesser dragons accept the rule of the Archdragons is with the assurance that they will not abuse their authority.

“Very well. I will return and discuss this matter with your son,” he yields. “But before I depart, I must warn you, your Guard, and their human companions. A few months ago, I heard tremors—whispers through the rock and metal—of a creature’s howl. A sound which…I have never heard from any animal before. Its song was…colorless. A shriek of sour notes. Then it disappeared. But make no mistake, even from afar, I can sense this beast’s power. I raise this warning to you, Queen Zubeia, to be on your guard. Your son’s life may depend on it.”

Rayla’s mind dwells back to what Callum discovered. “This creature…” she speaks up. “Did its sound come from the sunfire territory?”

Rex nods his head.

“I think the Guardian of the Storm Spire found where this monster was,” Rayla tells the Earth Dragon. Turning to Zubeia, she continues. “We have to find Callum or send him a message. He has to know that Viren and Claudia aren’t alone!”

Zubeia shakes her head. “By the time you or anyone reaches Lux Aurea, the Guardian would have begun his search. There’d be no way of figuring out his whereabouts.”

Rex lifted his head. “And even so, this monster has long since departed the north. Your Guardian will not remain in Lux Aurea for long, and even I do not know where his search will take him.”

Rayla feels a sharp pain in her left wrist. Her heart beats faster, her breathing becomes short. Nevertheless, she steels herself in front of the dragons, even as her mind raced elsewhere. She always knew that Viren and his daughter are dangerous, probably the most powerful humans in the world. But if they have a pet monster with them—quite likely a vile experiment in Dark Magic—what will happen if Callum _does_ find them? Will he be able to handle them alone?

She calms herself. _Yes_ , she reminds herself. _Because he’s not alone. Janai, Callum, and the knights of Lux Aurea all faced down the best of what Viren and Claudia could throw their way once before. They can do it again._

Her mind returns to the present moment and sees Rex preparing to depart.

“I take my leave,” he grumbles and begins to turn around.

“Wait!” Rayla shouts. The Earth Dragon looks back at her, a bit annoyed.

“You’re…going to warn the rest of Xadia, right?”

The Earth Dragon’s irritation only swelled into anger. She knows she’s speaking out of turn.

He turns to face her. “All of Xadia is in danger. Little one, you think I’d neglect to bring this to the attention of all elves and dragons?”

“And what about the humans? _They’re_ also in danger, right?

A dark look crosses Rex’s eyes. As though he was considering smashing her with his tail, for daring to speak so assertively to him.

“Who does this elf think she is, to think she can speak to a dragon when not spoken to?” Rex growls. “Moonshadow elves usually know their place in the world. This one behaves so oddly, perhaps I ought to remind her that—”

“ _I_ will warn the humans!” Zubeia exclaims. “Rayla is right. Human soldiers sacrificed their lives to save my son. Now, they are endangered by the same evil they fought to destroy…I will send word to the Human Kingdoms.”

In an instance, Rex’s boisterous demeanor looked deflated, undermined by the Dragon Queen’s answer.

“So be it,” he grumbles. “If you insist.”

As Rex Igneous and his two dragons depart, Zubeia turns to look at Rayla. Her gaze seems concerned and even frustrated, but unmistakably proud.

“Rayla,” she begins. “I sometimes forget how bold you can be.”

***

The flight to Lux Aurea was a brief one. It took Janai and her knights a single day to march their forces to the Storm Spire. For Callum, it takes only an hour, though perhaps he could have been quicker if he didn’t slow down to enjoy the city’s marvelous beauty. The streets and aqueducts encircled the city in ever-expanding circles, the walkways and homes between them forming a labyrinth that pours into the epicenter.

Callum never saw Lux Aurea before the battle. He heard that, even years later, it still hadn’t been restored to its former glory before Viren raided the city. But he can only imagine how wonderful that must have been, since the sight before him was pure masterful artwork, meticulously planned and splendidly built. Lux Aurea looked like a fairy tale.

He sees the Sun Forge at the center of the city, burning brightly though not quite as bright as Callum imagined it would be. Years ago, it was corrupted, turned into a beacon of Dark Magic. It took hundreds of the world’s best sun mages to purify the Sun Forge, and even then, it was never the same as before. Still powerful and fierce, though not with the same luster and intensity it once had.

As Callum lands just outside of the main gates, he is immediately surrounded by a dozen knights. Their swords are drawn, aimed at him, their angry and hostile stares directed at him.

His wings turn back into arms, and he raises his hands. The knights are no threat to a mage like him, but Callum needs to let them feel safe to defuse the situation.

He grimaces. It’s disappointed that, despite years of peace, the welcome party hasn’t gotten any nicer.

A priestly figure approaches. Carrying a staff with a Primal Stone, this one had all the markings of a sun mage. “You’ll have to forgive them, Prince Callum. A human mage this close to the Sun Forge is a dangerous thing.” His face turns grim. “We learned that the hard way four years ago.”

“I understand,” Callum replies shortly. “But with all due respect, it’s _Guardian_ , not Prince, on this side of the border.”

The sun mage nods. “…Of course,” he says gently, in a tone used to soothe a petulant child.

They walk through the city on their way to the Throne Room. All around Callum, the knights form a perimeter. Not to defend him, but just to make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble.

“No one was expecting you,” the sun mage says to him. “You didn’t send a messenger to announce your arrival.”

“This is a bit of an emergency,” Callum replies. “Besides, I’m faster than any messenger anyway, and Guardians are not generally expected to announce their arrival. Lujanne, I hear, can travel freely, and it’s customary for elven authorities to receive Guardians like her with open arms.

“But even you, Callum, must admit that you are a special case. Elven customs are, of course, made with _elves_ in mind.”

As they arrive at the gates to the Throne Room, the sun mage turns to Callum. “You must wait here. I’ll go inside to confirm that Queen Janai and her court are ready.”

Callum sighs. “Fine, but can you at least call off your knights? I’d like to be able to hang around here without people constantly watching me.”

The sun mage nods to the guards, who proceed to follow him into the Throne Room, leaving Callum by himself. He tries to remain calm. While time is of the essence, he won’t get anywhere by being pushy. All he can do is be patient and wait.

To pass the time, Callum kneels down and begins to meditate, yet he is surprised to find himself struggling to do even that. It’s usually effortless for him to enter a deep state of contemplation. Yet, this close to the Sun Forge, he finds its restless Primal Energy almost distracting. Like hearing one melody conflicting with another.

When he opens his eyes again, in his periphery, he sees a child wandering around the outside walls. Callum sees her throw a bow to the ground before crumpling and hiding her face between her knees.

She couldn’t be more than ten years old, but her sadness tugged on Callum’s heartstrings. He gets up and walks over to her, sitting down beside her.

“Is everything okay?” he asks her.

She looks up at him, startled, though not afraid. Just surprised, mystified that he's taking the time to talk to her. She eyes the runes on his arms before looking into his eyes.

“Y-you’re the mage Callum, aren’t you?” she asks meekly.

He nods. “And who are you?”

“Tishala,” she mutters.

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Tishala…you know, I’m no expert in archery, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the right way to use a bow!”

She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m terrible at archery. I’m terrible at everything.”

This struck a chord in Callum. “ _Really_? Why do you say that?”

“I’ve been trying to learn to shoot a bow and arrow, but no matter how much I try, I can’t get any better. And I tried to learn to use a sword, or an axe, or a shield, but I can't do anything!"

Callum raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little too hard on yourself if you think you’re supposed to have this all figured out at your age.”

Tishala shakes her head. “Everyone in my family is a warrior. _Everyone_. My mother could fight with a sword for as long as she could walk, and my father never misses a shot. I’m just…nothing like them.” 

“I’m sure they love you either way.”

She looks harshly at Callum. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re a human who can do magic! We talk about you at school—everyone says you’re just awesome at everything!”

He laughs softly as he blushes. Ironic, he thought, since “Callum” and “awesome at everything” was _never_ something that went together in his mind.

“Well, I’m not used to that level of praise, that’s for sure. And let me tell you, I wasn’t always ‘awesome at everything.’ In fact, when I was fourteen, I’m positive that I was much worse at archery than you are now!”

Tishala was unconvinced. “You haven’t even seen me shoot.”

Callum shakes his head. “I couldn’t even _fire_ a shot, the arrow would just fall off the bow. I tried sword-fighting, but I could barely even hold a sword. Axes? Not for me. I was a wreck.”

The sunfire girl’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, but how did you go from that…” she motions to him. “To you now? Did you just find something you could do?”

Callum’s head tilts from side to side as he stares off into space. “Well…yes and no. Magic clicked with me, but even when I got through the basics, it was a lot of work for me to finally get good. Some days I didn’t think I actually could do magic well, that I was just dreaming.”

He looks back at her and motions to the bow. “But then let me teach you a tip that helped me get through all that. Sometimes there can be so much that it feels overwhelming, frustrating, and impossible. My advice is to try to be patient, and breathe, and trust that eventually, you will get it.”

Tishala looks pensive, as though thinking over what he’s saying. “So, you’re saying if I keep trying, I could become as amazing as you?”

Callum chuckles. “Yes, you could be as amazing as me. Everybody learns at their own pace, and eventually you will too, if you keep at it.”

She smiles sweetly, picking up her bow and places it in her lap. Tishala quietly plays with the bow for a few moments.

“W-what are you doing here?” She suddenly asks. “Shouldn’t you be protecting Prince Azymondias?”

She is sincere in her question. It wasn’t an accusation to Callum’s ears, just plain curiosity.

“Well, it’s actually the job of the Dragon Guard to protect the Dragon Prince. I know someone on the Guard, and trust me, Azymondias is safe and sound as long as she is around!”

She nods, taking his words in. “But aren’t you supposed to be protecting _them_? Protecting her?”

He’s taken aback for a moment. Most elves don’t trust Callum, or even hate him. But this one is so young she barely remembers a time when elves and humans weren’t at peace. To her, Callum isn’t some freak, or a lesser being, or a threat. Tishala and other children in Lux Aurea look up to him. Something that he never expected would happen, at least not in his lifetime.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “But protecting them is why I’m here today. To talk to the Queen.”

Tishala gets up to her feet, and Callum follows. “That person you know on the Guard? She’s really lucky to have you on her side.”

He smiles. _I’m_ the lucky one, he thinks. Rayla changed his entire life, and every day she keeps on changing him. He’s not as brave or as strong as Rayla believes him to be, yet he tries to be braver and stronger so he could live up to what she sees in him.

Rayla makes him better.

Suddenly and without warning, Tishala hugs Callum. He stumbles for a moment, but then cautiously embraces the child as well. She then takes off, bow in hand, running as though eager to try using it again.

Returning to the gates of the Throne Room, Callum arrives to find the sunfire mage standing at the waiting.

“Her Majesty will see you now.”


	9. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum parlays with Queen Janai

As Callum spoke, he could see Queen Janai’s expressions evolve. He tells her Viren survived, and she’s shocked, the ordinarily stoic warrior gapes in horror. When describing the vast nothingness clouding his vision, she is disturbed, her brow furrowing in worry. But when she hears Claudia’s name, that she was standing by Viren, her worry dissolves into anger.

“So, now we know how this Dark Mage survived,” Janai says, her tranquil fury barely at bay. “And his apprentice is now back at his side.”

The Queen rises to her feet. “The Knights of Lux Aurea will track them down. And put Viren back in the grave for good this time!”

Callum breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he softly replies, bowing his head in respect. “With your leave, I can scout from the skies and direct your forces. That way, we can comb all of the Sunfire Kingdom, and track down Viren in short order.”

Janai raises an eyebrow. She looks impressed at Callum’s decisiveness.

“Very well, Guardian,” she replies. “But perhaps you should rest for a few days here in Lux Aurea. In the meantime, I will gather my troops for the search party.”

Callum nods with a smile. It’s been a while since he’s slept easily, but maybe he’ll find comfort knowing that an entire kingdom is behind him in tracking down Viren and Claudia.

Janai motions to the sun mage, standing at attention near her throne. “Amare will show you to your temporary quarters.”

As he’s about to leave, Callum suddenly gets a moment of inspiration. He thinks it’s a _terrible_ idea. But he’s far too curious to let the moment slide and opens his mouth anyway.

Turning back around to face Janai, he’s suddenly much more nervous. “Uh, Queen Janai, I have h-heard from my aunt that your Majesty is incredibly strong! That you use Sun magic when you fight.” Callum pinches his thumb and forefinger together. “Could you perhaps show me just a _teensy_ bit of your strength?”

“You want me to demonstrate my power? What did you have in mind?”

Callum felt a tinge of excitement work its way down his spine. “We could go toe to toe in a sparring match, even if only for a minute! I think that could be fun!”

To his surprise, Janai laughs. Callum has never heard her laugh before and is a bit shocked at how good-natured and genuine it sounds.

“Sparring is a matter of honor among Sunfire elves, something meant to resolve conflicts with less bloodshed. Yet you suggest that we fight…for fun?” Janai chuckles again. “I can see the family resemblance now. You really are your aunt’s nephew, aren’t you?”

But then she cocks her head, sporting a mischievous smile. “Or maybe it’s just that you’re an arrogant fool. Either way, you’ve piqued my interest.”

Climbing down the steps of her throne, Janai motions with her head for Callum to follow. He walks slightly behind her, curious as to where she’s leading them. After a few minutes of walking past ornate walls and monuments, they come to a large, empty room, with a flat floor containing what appears to be a simple circle. Two pillars of flame stand on opposite ends of the room, the smoke blackening the ceiling.

“This, young Callum,” she states plainly. “Is our training arena.” She waves to one of the knights in her company, who dutifully enters the arena.

“I’ve killed many in my time as a Knight of Lux Aurea,” she says matter-of-factly, as though boringly reciting her record. “I wouldn’t want to do so accidentally here. So, I want to see what you’re capable of first, and then I’ll decide if you can handle a fight with me.”

Callum looks curiously at the Sunfire elf. “You want me to fight him first?” The two men make eye contact, so Callum awkwardly waves at him.

Janai nods, so Callum shrugs in response. “Sure, I accept! What are the rules?”

“You keep going until one of you gets knocked out of the ring…or one of you dies.”

A little chilling, but not enough to ward off the young Guardian. “Hmph, that’s fine by me!”

As Callum walks into the arena, cracking his knuckles as he walks, Janai continues. “I should warn you, he is one of my finest lieutenants. And he’s both a knight _and_ a mage, so you won’t be able to count on magic to give you the advantage.”

“We’ll see if I need it,” he smugly replies. The two mages walk into position on opposite ends of the arena.

“Arrogance is unbecoming of a mage,” she bluntly retorts. “The battle commences in three…two…ONE!”

The Sunfire elf quickly tries drawing a rune with both hands, but Callum is quicker. The spry Guardian lunges forward and grabs the elf’s hands before he can cast a spell. He looms over the elf, and it takes Callum hardly any effort to spin him around and vault him out of the arena.

The Queen looks a bit shocked.

“…alright then. I guess you really _are_ Amaya’s nephew.”

Callum smiles as he crosses his arms. “You could say it runs in the family.”

“It looks like I should live up to my end of the bargain,” Janai says. “But I won’t be using my Heat-Being Mode right away. I don’t yet know if you are capable of handling it.”

The sky mage raises his fists and takes a defensive posture. “Suit yourself.”

As Janai raises hers, the two slowly circle around the center of the arena, keeping a distance but paying attention to any weak point from the other. Callum feels uneasy; Janai may be a hair shorter than him, but from what he’s heard, she might be one of the most dangerous fighters in Xadia.

Janai strikes first, grunting as she swings a fist at Callum. He deftly dodges the first swing, and blocks the second. As the spar continues, it’s clear that Callum has the advantage. Magic or no magic, his speed is unparalleled, and Janai has no way of keeping up.

He blocks a few punches before forcing Janai back with one of his own.

“You’re not half-bad,” he quips as he blocks another strike. “This might end up being a pretty good warm-up!”

Janai is irate. “You mock me, FINE!”.

As they continue to spar, Callum grabs her hands, once again trying to pull the same move he did on the knight. But as he tries to pull Janai, he suddenly finds her immovable. No matter how much he tries to push, he can’t seem to propel her. An aura covers the outline of her body, and she squeezes his hands with a force unlike anything Callum ever felt.

Fearing she’ll break his hands, Callum does his damndest to break out of the hold he had made, but to no avail. Whatever Primal Energy she was channeling, it was far stronger than anything Callum could muster.

“This is getting annoying!” she growls before throwing him. Callum flips himself to grasp on to the floor, narrowly avoids a ring-out.

He makes it to his feet and takes a moment to stare in wonder at Janai’s form. Small cracks and fissures light up her skin, covering her arms and head. 

Callum is amazed by her form. He’s only ever seen a corrupted version of this power on Kasef and Viren’s other soldiers. But on Janai, the intensity of the Heat Being Mode is equal parts stunning and terrifying! As the spar continues, he finds that his speed is now entirely negated by her increased strength. While he can just barely dodge her, she’s too hot to actually hit, and Callum doesn’t think he can tank her hits.

He took a deep breath _. I was hoping not to have to do this,_ he thinks, _but here goes!_

“ _Aspiro_!” he exclaims as he draws the rune. Blowing a powerful gust of wind, he manages to knock her down, with his arms he directs the blast to hit her again.

Yet Janai dodges this second onslaught and dive straight for Callum.

“ _Fulgur mo_ —” he began, but he’s too slow. With one powerful punch, Janai knocks him out of the ring and onto his back.

Callum picks himself up, struggling through the drumming in his ears. He clasps his jaw and wipes some of the blood from his mouth. His fingers trembled. Janai is undoubtedly strong. Far above what he could muster. Callum had no idea there was anyone who could be that strong.

Yet, somehow, he feels excited. In fact, he’s never been more excited in his entire life!

“That was _amazing_!” He exclaims. “Can all Sunfire elves do that?”

Janai chuckles as her skin returns to normal. “I must admit, few people become as thrilled as you when seeing a Heat-Being Mode. But alas, while every Sunfire elf is born connected to the Sun, learning to channel one’s internal Primal Energy is a difficult feat. It requires a total mastery of mind, body, and spirit. Only one out of every thousand Sunfire elves can channel the Sun’s heat into creating this form.”

_Mind, body, and spirit,_ Callum thinks. He recalls what his mother once told him in his fever dream.

“That’s similar to how I learned the Sky Arcanum. Knowing it truly and deeply with every part of me.”

He examines the runes on his arms. “I also did that to master mage wings, and other powers too. Though some are more difficult and others.”

“Really?” Janai asks. “I know very little in the ways of Sky magic. But since I indulged your request to see my form, show me yours.”

Callum grins. “As you wish, your Majesty.” He extends his arms. “Manus…pluma…volantus!”

As wings replace his arms, he sees the awe in Janai’s face. “No matter how many times I see this, it’s still impossible to comprehend that a human can learn an Arcanum.”

He let one of his arms return to normal. “I’ve tried using one wing for extra agility before,” he says. “Though I’m usually all-or-nothing about this sort of thing. Having just one hand is still a little unsettling for me.

As his second arm returns to him, Callum’s hand touches his abdomen. “There’s actually one rune that I can’t seem to master, no matter how hard I try. It’s an ancient rune that I found in one of Ibis’ ancient tomes.”

Callum carefully lifts part of his shirt, revealing the rune. “It’s trigger words are supposed to be _sine mente animum_ —'mind without mind.’ Though I don’t even know what happens when I achieve it.”

“Why do you think you need trigger words?” Janai muses. “I never need to say anything to transform.”

Callum shrugs. “It’s the way I taught myself to do it. But this is mostly a pipe dream. Only one sky mage in history has ever learned to use this rune. So, I’m better off trying to learn Sun Magic—one out of every thousand sounds like better odds than what I’m working with!”

Janai points at him. “You’ve already achieved the impossible. You connected to the Sky Primal. Perhaps learning another form of magic isn’t so unrealistic for you.”

“Maybe,” Callum comments quietly. “But…I don’t know. From what I’ve seen in Sun Magic, it’s rather intense. It…it actually kinda scares me!”

Janai cocks her head. She isn’t offended, only curious. “You’re a learned mage. You’ve seen the healing, growing side of Sun Magic, and you’ve seen the violent, destructive side of it. I wonder what you being afraid of it actually means.”

Callum blinks. “…you lost me.”

Janai sighs. “Every living creature—magic or no magic—draws energy from the Sun. Light and heat are the source of everything around us. And every creature has its own relationship with the Sun. Some of us, who wish to mend the world, to heal what was broken and bring life into the world, look to the Sun’s light and see a nurturing, transformative energy. Then there are those who’s wildness and ferocity—which some call bravery—lead them to see the Sun as a source of fire. Of destruction and violence. We are each drawn to one of these.”

Callum furrows his brow. “I…don’t think that made things any clearer to me.”

“You fear Sun Magic because of the intensity of its destructive power. But I wonder…why are you drawn to that power in the first place? Could it be that what you _really_ fear…is yourself?”

Callum isn’t sure how to respond. “Afraid of myself? That seems a little far-fetched!”

The Queen crosses her arms. “Your aunt told me much about you. How you lost a father to a Moonshadow assassin and lost a mother to an Archdragon.”

Janai places a comforting hand on Callum’s shoulder, and her soft eyes look as though she understands the trauma he’s been through. The young mage is shocked; he never thought the Queen could be this compassionate.

“You are such a kind man, but perhaps there’s pain and anger in you too. I know, because I have felt that too. Grief for those you lost, rage at those who took them from you. You’ve let yourself feel that grief, yet the rage you concealed away. But the rage is still there, buried deep inside you.”

Callum feels the melancholy build in his chest. “And you’re saying that until I’m brave enough to face that rage, I can’t understand the Sun Arcanum?”

Janai shakes her head. “No. I’m saying that _when_ you learn the truth of the Sun Arcanum, you will also learn the truth about yourself. Who you really are deep down. And you will have to learn to live with it…”

She releases his shoulder and begins to walk out of the arena. “…as I have.”


	10. Paranoid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezran finally comes face to face with the Red Grace.

Corvus stood tall beside his king. He stands just to the right of Ezran, with Soren flanking the other side of the throne. They were among the most senior members of the Crownguard, or at least senior enough for Corvus to choose not to have to wear such bulky armor.

Ezran’s sessions in the throne room ran long, often for many hours at a time, and so standing around in heavy armor would have made Corvus’ job miserable. Recently, Ez had begun conducting countless meetings, assemblies, and decisions. No state matter, large or small, escaped his attention.

The sky mage (Ibis, Corvus thinks he’s called) is also in attendance. His duties as a liaison now extend to parlaynig with the humans on behalf of the elves. In the past few years, Ibis’ travels to Katolis became more frequent, and the king has been more eager to push for stronger ties with Xadia.

But this session is different. Only one matter is on the agenda, only one issue occupies king Ezran’s mind.

“The Children of Pharos seem to be getting more restless,” he says. “In Katolis. In Duren. Hopefully today’s meeting with the Red Grace ends this issue once and for all.”

“This can’t be good,” Corvus says. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Minister Balan veers his gaze to Ezran. He has a grim, almost mocking gaze. He seems to be enjoying the moment. “Your Majesty, we would not have had this problem had we adopted a…military solution.”

Ezran glares at him. “In Katolis, people have a right to their religion! I won’t be killing people over their beliefs!”

“Still,” Soren mutters. “Letting someone who is potentially a Dark Mage here? This could be a trap!”

Opeli rolls her eyes. “The king is completely safe! General Amaya and her Standing Battalion are less than a day’s ride away. Katolis has a fine army defending him, capable of handling any threats to his life!”

Ez sighs and deflates slightly. “I don’t think I’m in any danger…but I can’t help but worry about what might happen to Aayna up north. It’s not just the Children of Pharos, but the Neolandian army, that is pressing up against the Duren border. If things go south, she might have a battle on two fronts!”

“It won’t come to that!” Corvus insists. “Besides, it’s not like Neolandia is much of a threat to her.” He puts a hand on Ez’s shoulder. “ I’ve been to that border myself, you know? It’s mostly mountains, impossible for a large force to pass except through a single gate. If they try to attack, Duren can keep them locked out of their kingdom.”

Ezran looks up at Corvus, so he continues. “Queen Aanya is strong. She won’t let any harm come to her people.”

“Yes,” Ezran whispers. “Yes…I’m sure you’re right!” A look of resolve is cast on the king’s face as Corvus beams with pride. While he’s responsible for protecting Ezran, most days a simple reassurance is better than a sharpened sword or a grappling hook.

“Is it appropriate for me to be here?” Ibis asks. “I am, after all, merely an emissary, and this appears to be an entirely internal matter.”

“No,” Ezran responds firmly. “If humans and elves are to get along, my people need to see us side by side.” He looks up at the mage. “I’m not your king…but I count you as a friend. You can leave, but I’d appreciate it if you stayed.”

Ibis grins ever so slightly and bows his head in modest respect. “Very well. It warms my heart to be considered your friend.”

The Red Grace finally arrived, traveling all the way from the border and flanked by six of her followers. Three stood to each side, hooded and masked, carrying pikes wrapped with a blood-red banner—a homage to their leader. Their plain white masks, carrying three slits for two eyes and a mouth, unnerve even the unflappable Ezran.

Corvus is startled by the Red Grace’s wearied appearance. Her grey, disheveled hair rested on her shoulders, her frail fingers gripped a cane as she hobbled her way across the throne room. Her skin, weathered with age, has creases visible from the other side of the room.

“King Ezran,” she utters softly, unable to carry her voice too far. “Thank you for meeting me.”

Ez shakes his head. The pleasantries won’t work with him. “You made it difficult to refuse. You’re, um, “Children” have been protesting in the main town square of Katolis Castle for the last week. Something I did to offend them, perhaps?”

“My Children have shown no violence. You’re frightened by a few protesters?”

“I merely want to find out what they’re protesting,” Ezran retorts. “And it seems as though the only person with any authority over them is you.”

The Red Grace chuckles softly. “I tell them that no one is special in the eyes of the Gods, and so they think _I’m_ special. How flattering, but I can assure you that only the divine have any authority over any of us.”

“Yet still,” Ezran continues. “ _You_ wanted to meet with _me_. How come?”

“I believe you know,” the Red Grace says. “It’s the same reason you are met with protest here in your capital. You’ve denied many of my people entry into Katolis and convinced Duren to do the same. Now many of our brothers and sisters are left stranded in Del Bar, separated from their community.”

Ezran sighs. “We don’t even know what you want here. And this magic power you have, the Grace? It’s Dark Magic, I’m sure of it! We don’t allow that practice in Katolis!”

The Red Grace looks over at Soren. “Even the strongest among us can’t fathom the true depth of magic in this world.” She turns back to Ezran. “Some are blessed with an Arcanum, just as some are bestowed remarkable gifts by the Grace. Even you, king Ezran. I’ve heard stories of your ability to speak with animals. Do you really think you haven’t been granted a blessing by the Gods? One that cannot be explained by the Primal Sources _or_ Dark Magic? Perhaps you hold a debt of gratitude to my faith as well.”

Corvus sees the confusion in Ez’s eyes, so he steps in. “That’s enough! You’ve been given your answer. Dark Magic is forbidden in Katolis!”

The Red Grace lets out a sigh. “Such a disappointment. Oh, how the unbelievers hold fast to their falsehoods. And they call _us_ the zealots.”

She glances around the room. “I heard that the king had an older brother. Isn’t it custom for the Prince of Katolis to be present in such matters?”

“My brother is away on an important assignment.”

“Is that so?” the Red Grace raises a brow. “What kind of assignment?”

“That’s none of your concern. Now, if you don’t mind, we have other business to attend to, and you have your answer.” Ezran’s voice raises, though he’s careful not to shout. “There shall be no Dark Magic practiced here! Katolis’ borders will remain closed to anyone who practices it or follows those who do!”

The Red Grace bites her lip. “Very well, king Ezran. My Children shall vacate from the town square, and I will return to Del Bar. While I pray you will change your mind, allow me to extend my warmest gratitude. You are indeed a wise king.”

As she turns around to leave, she places her cane on a chip in the stone floor. She hobbles and begins to fall, and all the Children around her rush to catch her. Just the effort of bracing herself causes the Red Grace to be out of breath.

Ez exchanges a look with Corvus. He looks remorseful, taking pit at the sight, but unsure what they should do. So, Corvus gives him a soft smile.

But then Corvus looks at Soren, who is frantically shaking his head. “Ezran, no,” he whispers.

Corvus rolls his eyes at Soren. Of course, this young goof wouldn’t understand. Soren was practically born in Katolis Castle, and though he’s gone through his own hardship, he’s never had to worry about finding those who cared for him. He wouldn’t understand the importance of kindness to those who haven’t been so lucky.

But Corvus knew better. He’s an orphan, spending many years on the streets before joining the Katolis army. Then, through the kindness of General Sarai and Commander Amaya, he was given a home in the Standing Battalion. A home he was always grateful for.

Who are we if we don’t extend that same kindness to others?

When Ezran stood, he made his choice.

“Uh, excuse me, but the border is really far away. Why don’t you rest here in the castle for a day or two? Then you can be on your way.”

The Red Grace gives him a smile. “You do me a great honor. May the Gods bless you.”

When she leaves, Soren wastes no time in voicing his opinion. “Ez, this is a _terrible_ idea. You’re letting a complete stranger—and a _magic-user_ at that—stay in our castle without knowing much of anything about her?”

Corvus defends the King. “You sound paranoid, Soren.”

“It’s not paranoia to know there’s plenty to worry about!” He angrily responds. “Lest we forget, the tower, where my dad did his work, is literally a _treasure trove_ of magical artifacts that none of us understand! What if the Red Grace really is a Dark mage? And gets a hold of even one thing from up there?”

“Oh?” Corvus chuckles. “And how do you think she’ll do that? Take an evening stroll and happen upon your father’s workroom, and help herself to his things?”

“He’s right,” Ez says. “All this stuff is locked away. No one who doesn’t know about Viren is going to just _know_ what’s up there.”

The king crosses his arms. “Besides, what’s your problem with the Red Grace? She might not be my favorite person, but she hasn’t said anything threatening. It’s not a crime to be a religious fanatic.”

“Something just feels off about the Red Grace,” Soren shivers. “This whole old grandmother shtick. Doesn’t it seem a little overdone?”

“Oh, sure, very over the top!” Corvus laughs. “It’s almost like she’s old enough to _be_ a grandmother!”

Soren grimaces. “I’m sure changing your appearance isn’t that hard for a Dark Mage to do! You guys have all seen Moon magic, right? Maybe she just, I don’t know, crushed a moon moth for a spell or something?”

Ibis puts a gentle hand on Soren’s shoulder. “And to what end, exactly? You can’t live your life tethered to the fear that someone around you is using Dark Magic to deceive you. Sometimes what you need is to trust in the sincerity of others. A world without trust is a world without compassion.”

“He’s right,” Ezran says. “And…you’re kinda sounding a little bit of a worry-wart, Soren.”

Before Soren could respond, Ezran turned to leave, talking with Ibis about the importance of establishing new trade routes around the Spinning Sea and the other side of Xadia.

Corvus turns to Soren and places a hand on his shoulder. Perhaps, he thought, he was a little harsh. The Captain of the Crownguard— _his_ Captain—only ever had the best interest of his king in mind.

But before he says anything, Soren storms off in a huff, shaking loose Corvus’ hand. “I need some fresh air,” he muttered.

Corvus raises his eyebrow. “What do you mean? Where are you going.”

Soren turns to glare at Corvus. “I’m saddling up and going for a ride.” He says measuredly. All too measuredly. “Maybe a few hours outside on horseback will clear my head.”

Corvus is taken aback. Soren is not usually the kind of person to have a lot on his mind, certainly not enough to warrant taking a personal day. Nevertheless, he just nods at Soren, respecting his clear wishes for privacy.

“Take care,” Corvus says. “Hurry back when you can.”

Soren nods and turns to leave, disappearing in the dispersing assembly of advisors and officials.

Corvus lets out a sigh. They’ve had their history, with ups and downs, but they were, in so few words, brothers in all but name. Crownguard together. Protectors of the king together. They fought on the same side during the last war, and Soren is clearly better intentioned than Corvus gave him credit for.

And certainly, he must feel somewhat out of place now, with his actual family had betrayed Ezran and fought to capture and kill Azymondias. It’s no wonder he’s been suspicious of strange newcomers, especially those with unfamiliar magic. Corvus can’t blame him for being overly protective of his new—his _real_ —family.

But that doesn’t mean he’s right, Corvus reminds himself. Paranoia is a poison that breeds fear and ignorance.

A feverish tap breaks Corvus out of his concentration. Turning around, he finds the Crow Master—Crow _Lord_ now, he corrects himself— before him.

“Uh, Mr. Crownguard, sir,” he begins. “Do you, by chance, know where His Majesty is? I’ve got a, uh, message for him.”

Corvus groans. “Crow Lord, you know that the king reads his messages first thing each morning. He has a lot on his plate today. So, why in the Five Kingdoms do you want to bother him with this now?”

“Well…” he looks awfully nervous. Perhaps Corvus’ demeanor isn’t the most inviting. “It’s a message from Duren. And it has the Queen’s official seal. One reserved for private communication between rulers.”

The Crow Lord made eye contact with Corvus. Quickly, Corvus concluded that this was a matter that cannot wait.

“Something must have happened there,” Corvus mutters. He races out of the throne room to go find his king.


	11. The Shape of Things to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark wings come to Duren

Johan blows into his cupped hands and rubs them together. This high up in Duren’s mountains, he and the other members of the Patrol Battalion had to do whatever they can to stay warm.

Although sometimes he just warms his hands out of sheer boredom. Here, on the border between Duren and Neolandia, there hasn’t been so much as a drunken pissing contest between foreign troops in over three centuries. And even when there were battles, it really made no difference once Duren built the Iron Gate.

The Iron Gate had stood tall for over half a millennium, nearly a mile wide and covering the entirety of the only major pass into Duren from Neolandia. Despite its name, the gate was mostly made of solid rock at least twenty feet thick, with battlements all along the top of the gate. And that wasn’t Duren’s only advantage. Beyond the gate, on Neolandia’s side of the border, a soldier on the Iron Gate could see a half-mile of flat terrain, leaving anyone wide open to Duren's famed archers. Ensuring that anyone who dares cross this path with hostile intentions will be met with a bad afternoon. A million soldiers could attempt to take down the Iron Gate, and a million soldiers would be repelled.

Impregnable. Impassible. Which meant that Johan’s biggest fear was a slow death by boredom.

He sighs and gets up to his feet. Johan walks a few feet to the next battlement and examines the howling, empty wind with his comrade in arms.

“Look at that,” Johan says, pointing to the fluff in the sky. “It’s the first snow of the year.”

His comrade nods. “Looks that way!”

“Beautiful.”

The comrade rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You’ve been up here for five years, and you still get sentimental over some flurries!”

Johan shoves his friend. “Don’t laugh just because I haven’t lost my sense of wonder!”

But before they can continue, Johan spots something out of the corner of his eye. He turns to face Neolandia’s side of the border and spots what looks like a scout on horseback emerging from the over the hill.

He identifies the scout’s banner immediately. Even from afar, it clearly carries the black elephant of Neolandia.

The scout and Johan seem to make eye contact. Without so much as hesitating, the scout lifts up a horn and announces his presence. Behind him, entire legions of soldiers emerge from over the hill and pour into the terrain before the Iron Gate.

Johan sees the soldiers are organized in squares of what he thinks are a hundred soldiers each. Counting up what he sees, there must be thousands of soldiers out there before him.

He can’t believe it. Neolandia is going to war against Duren!

Johan looks at his friend and then stares down the battlement. “Sound the alarm!” He yells. “Send a crow to the Queen!”

As the bells rang, soldiers jump from their beds and race to the battlements. Archers line up and lock their arrows. Knights below mount their steeds to get ready to meet the enemy on their home turf.

Suddenly, the Neolandian forces stop in their tracks, about a thousand feet from the border. Remaining in formation, they form a carefully regulated wall, as far as the eye can see.

The archers by Johan look confused as they lower their bows. “I don’t understand,” one mutters. “What are they waiting for?”

“Steady,” Johan cautions the troops. “Steady. Their numbers will count for nothing here. We’ll push them—”

A loud howl rips through the sky, sharp enough to send a chill down his spine. The hairs on Johan’s back stick up, and his mind goes blank. That sounded _almost_ like a dragon, though not entirely. Its roar was a harsher and higher pitch than anything he’s ever heard. The sound he hears is deep and blaring with occasional crackles and snapping noises.

Johan scans the horizon and the sky, trying to find whatever is making that noise. He tries to find something, anything, but all he can see is the piercing white clouds above, and an army below.

But just as he thinks he’s losing his mind, he spots a creature in the corner of his eye, bolting across the gate. It’s impossibly fast, too fast for him to make out, but the screech is strong enough to knock him back on his back.

“Ugh!” Johan struggles to his feet again. This time, he sees the creature. By the Gods, can he see it, making its way around and heading back to the Iron Gate.

It looks like nothing he’s ever seen. Nothing in his or anyone’s most extravagant imagination could have prepared him for this. Even in his panic, Johan was wise enough to cover his own mouth with both hands.

It’s a colossal and nameless blasphemy. It’s gigantic, almost like a dragon, but with wings like a moth. It had metallic black skin with specks that look like stars and nebulas on its back. Its flat head held a triangular jaw resembling a beak, and two white slits where its eyes must be. It darts like an astounding monster of nightmares to the monolith, about which it flung its gigantic scaly arms, the while it bows its hideous head and gave vent to certain neurotic sounds.

As it makes another pass by the gate, and Johan realizes they are severely outmatched.

“Retreat!” he yells! “Back behind the gate!!”

But it’s too late. The creature flies up to the wall and ejects a violet stream—like a dark flame— from its jaws, striking the gate’s stone and metal. The metal gives way, the stone crumbles, as though made of little more than wet paper. The force flings Johan’s friend into the air and sends him to the ground below.

As many more soldiers fall, Johan holds tightly to a support beam. But eventually, that too cannot hold any longer, and the beam tremors as it collapses, and he falls to the earth below.

Johan thinks himself dead, but mercifully (or not), he survives the fall, cushioned by the snowbanks and only knocked unconscious for a time. When he awakes, he sees that the Neolandian army is already on the move again, moving through the passage pierced wide open by the monster.

He sees it flying up ahead, circling the sky like a vulture ready to strike on a helpless prey. It appears that Neolandia has found itself an ally in this creature. He dreads thinking what will come next, as the forces of Neolandia make their way into Duren and towards Berylgarten. No doubt to take their revenge on Queen Aanya.

He sinks back into the snow, pretending to be dead until the enemy disappears. Imagining what comes next, part of him wishes he actually was killed.

And perhaps very soon, the rest of the living will envy the dead as well.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

END OF PART I


	12. Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ezran prepares for war, he meets an unexpected visitor.

PART II: THE RETURN

Ezran briskly walks down the hallway on his way to the throne. Though he’s just a skinny fourteen year old, Corvus and Opeli have a hard time keeping up with his pace.

But the urgency of the present moment cannot wait. It couldn’t wait two days ago when the Crow Lord stormed into the king’s chambers to tell Ezran that Neolandia had invaded Duren. It couldn’t wait when Ezran sent word to Katolis’ banners and armies to march north to assist Duren.

The last two days have been filled to the brim with tasks that simply could not wait. And when he arrives at the throne room, to attend his war committee, he won’t be waiting for anyone to catch up.

“Are you sure we should be sending all of our forces north?” asks Opeli. “What about the capital? We’ll be defenseless!”

Ezran brushes her off. “Neolandia will march down here when they’re done with Duren. We need to stop them before that happens. I won’t let harm anywhere near our people!

He looks over at a passing window. The sun is already beginning to set. Yet the day’s business is not over. Even still, he has much on his plate if he wants to win this war. Ezran expects it will be a long night.

They arrive at the doors leading to the throne room, with Ibis standing dutifully to one side, waiting for the king of Katolis to enter. He bows his head in deep reverence.

“King Ezran,” he says quietly. “Good to see you again.”

Ez waves away his pleasantries. He had asked Ibis to scout Duren for this…“monster” that had been sighted blowing apart the kingdom’s border. “Did you find anything?”

Ibis grimly shakes his head. “I sped as fast as I could to the creature’s first sighting. But as far as I could see, there was nothing. The beast vanished as quickly as it disappeared.”

“Hopefully, it won’t stay hidden for too long,” says Ezran. “And once it appears, we’ll get to the bottom as to what’s going on!”

“One would hope,” replies Ibis, raising a brow. “I am curious as to what you have in mind next. Wars do not come with guarantees of victory.”

Ez’s voice is grim. “Above all else, I want peace.” He clenches his fists. “But if defending Zym taught me anything, it’s that sometimes if you want peace, you have to prepare for war.”

He steps forward to open the doors to the throne room…yet the room is empty. Not a soldier, not a minister, not a soul stood in these walls. Only silence occupied the space.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Opeli snaps. “The entire court should have been assembled over a half-hour ago!”

Ezran looks around the empty hall, made all the larger by the lack of bodies. He’s not offended by the tardiness, merely confused. In his four years as king, never has the throne room been entirely empty.

_Never_.

Suddenly, a terrible thought occurs in Ezran’s mind. “Where is the Red Grace?” he asks.

Corvus is confused. “What do you mean?”

The pieces come together. “No one’s coming. They’re trying to trap us!”

They all race out of the throne room, running in the direction they came from. Ez isn’t sure what happened to his subjects, but he wasn’t about to join their fate.

“Opeli, get to the Crow Lord! Get General Amaya’s battalion to Katolis Castle!” Ez curses under his breath. _Why did I have to send away the army?_

As Opeli peels away, Ezran looks at Corvus. “Where in the Five Hells is Soren?!” he growls.

But as they turn the corner, and before Corvus could answer, they come face to face with the Red Grace herself, supporting herself with a tall cane. Her six robed followers stand all around her, their faces covered by the same eerie masks.

“Oh, good evening, Your Majesty!” She says in mock surprise. “I missed you at your meeting in the throne room, but I’m glad we’ve crossed paths nonetheless.”

Ez doesn’t blink. He worries that if he does, she’ll see how afraid he is. “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, nothing at all,” the Red Grace says wistfully. “Nothing that can’t be undone, anyway.”

Ez takes a breath, pausing for a moment. And in that pause, the last few pieces come together in his mind.

“So…you planned all of this? Started a war in Duren, just to get to me?”

The Red Grace cocks her head. “It’s tough to get more obvious than that.”

“Didn’t say it wasn’t,” Ezran continues. He thinks back to the Battle of the Storm Spire. “But…starting an entire battle just as a distraction, just to isolate and go after a reigning monarch? I didn’t think that you were forming such a clear pattern…Claudia.”

The old woman lets out a chuckle. “You know, I for one was surprised this façade last for as long as it did.” She loudly taps the can on the hard floor. Abruptly, the cane blooms to reveal a tall staff, forming an elaborate design around a dark orb at the top. The Red Grace’s exterior cracks to reveal the face that Ezran remembers from before the war.

Claudia stands before Ezran, yet all of her hair remains unmistakably white. “Oh well, this form had served its purpose.”

As she walks up to Ezran, Corvus readies his hook while Ibis lifts his staff. Claudia merely waves them away.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt anybody.”

Her voice is so calm and sincere. Could she possibly be capable of harming Ez?

Reluctantly, Ezran nods at the two men, who lower their guard. Claudia then approaches the young king. 

“It’s all going to be okay, Ez,” she says assuredly. Somehow, she looks like she actually believes it. “You’re not the one I’m after. I only need two things from this place…and the first thing I already have.”

She paces around Ezran. “But the second thing eludes me, so I thought you might help.”

Claudia places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Ezran, where is Callum? I’ve been here two days, and I’m a little surprised I haven’t caught even bumped into him. Just tell me where he is, and I’ll be on my way.”

That surprised Ezran. Enough that he didn’t even ask Claudia about that “other thing” she was after.

“Why? What are you going to do to him?”

He truly wishes to understand her, but Claudia merely shakes her head. “Ez, as much as I’d love to stand here and answer all of your questions, I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. But rest assured, I already know about his little…gift. I know he can use Sky Magic. That he can grow wings to fly. Do you know what that means?”

Ez tightens his lips and narrows his eye, so Claudia continues with a soft smile.

“That means Callum is the only human _in the world_ who has connected to a Primal Source. Now _that’s_ impressive…which is why I’d like to see him and, perhaps, examine him.”

_Examine_ , thought Ezran. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He knows what a Dark Mage means when they say they wish to “examine” something. For years his brother had protected him. Now he’ll have to protect him too.

“Claudia, I don’t know what happened to you,” he answers, genuinely trying to reach out to the girl he once knew. “I don’t know how I can help fix everything that went wrong between us.”

Ezran clenches his fist. “But I will _not_ help you.”

In an instant, the friendly smile disappeared, replaced with anger and hostility.

“You won’t help me?” she repeats. “Fine. I suppose we’ll have to do this the hard way. Let’s see if you still think so when I’m done pulling apart this castle!”

But as she lifts her staff, three of her followers lower their banners. One in particular twirls the banner in their hand with such precision, Ezran can barely see their hand move. In quick succession, they trip up and knock the remaining three to the ground.

One takes off their mask, and to Ezran’s delight, it’s a face he recognizes.

“ _Soren_!” He exclaims.

“Sorry for the wait, kid,” he chuckles as he takes off the robe, revealing his golden armor underneath. “It took us a bit of time to replace these drones without anyone catching on. But better late than never, right?”

The other two unmasked themselves as well, revealing themselves to be Gren and Amaya. Soren must have hiked out to bring his aunt and her Standing Battalion back to Katolis Castle.

Gren apprehensively looks at his banner.

“Ugh, it’s a shame we couldn’t be civil about this!”

Soren smirks at Gren. “I didn’t think you knew how to use a weapon. Glad things turned out okay!”

Gren simply glares. “I’m still a _Commander,_ Soren! Just because I don’t carry a weapon, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use one!”

Amaya shuts them up with a mere gesture before pointing at Claudia. The Dark Mage looks unusually happy at the turn of events.

“Big brother!” she shouts derisively. “It’s so good to see you again! We have so much catching up to do!”

Several Crownguard soldiers, perhaps hearing the commotion, catch up and stand by Amaya, drawing their swords. Corvus and Ibis move up behind Claudia. Ezran’s defenders now surround Viren’s daughter.

Soren draws his sword. “ Just for you, I’ll ask nicely—step away from the king _please_!”

“We may have some unfinished business,” she looks back at Ezran and smirks as she looks back at her brother. “But we can deal with that at our leisure. Let’s have some fun for now.”

A stone drops in Ez’s stomach. If she’s this itching to cut loose, things are about to get ugly.

As her staff glows, Claudia takes a deep breath. In a flash, she vaults herself into the air and emits a petrifyingly inhumane howl. Claudia lands in the middle of the soldiers and easily deflects their attacks. One by one, she picks off the Crownguard troops, either flinging them to a wall with her staff or reducing them to ash.

She engages Soren and Amaya, who try to flank her from each side. But from Ezran’s vantage point, he can’t see who has the upper hand.

Ez feels Corvus’ hand on his shoulder. “We have to go. Now! They’re doing this so you can escape!” The young king nods as he takes off with Corvus and Ibis.

“We have to get to my chambers!” Ez declares. “There’s a way into the underground catacombs from there. I know them better than anyone. We’ll be able to hide and regroup to take back the castle!”

As they make it to his room, Ezran stops in the middle and turns to Ibis. “If the Dragon Queen hears about what’s going on here, will she help?”

Ibis’ eyebrows furrow with worry, and his face looks grim. “There’s no telling for certain. Fighting in Duren, or protecting Azymondias, may take priority for her.”

“Still,” Ezran presses. “We have to try. We need all the allies we can get right now. Fly to the Storm Spire and get them to send help!”

Ibis nods. “I’ll make haste.” He extends his arms. “Manus…Pluma…Volantus!”

As he takes flight out balcony, Ezran walks over to his dresser and pulls out a case.

Corvus gives the young king a perplexed gaze. “What is that?”

“One last thing,” Ez begins. “Before we disappear underground. The Moonshadow elves are excellent craftsmen, as it turns out. Queen Janai gave me something from them as a gift.”

He opens it to reveal a single Shadowhawk arrow. “If anything were to happen, I can shoot this arrow, and, with the right incantation, it will find its way back to Lux Aurea. The Queen will then know to send help.”

Ezran steps out onto the balcony, where his father once stood each morning. Bow in one hand, he knocks the magical arrow, raising it to the sky.

“ _Regina Solis_ ,” he whispers. He releases the arrow and watches as it transforms into a golden hawk, flying eastward to Lux Aurea.

Turning around to face Corvus, Ezran exhales. “And now we run. We’ll bide our time until we can take the castle back from Claudia.”

Before disappearing into the tunnels below, Ezran turns around to take one last look at his room. _His father’s_ old room. His father, the king, who stood his ground in this very space against the Moonshadow assassins.

But while Ezran might be retreating, he is _not_ giving up. Maybe he didn’t win today, but he’ll survive, long enough to defeat Claudia. He owes his people that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork was created by the amazing Kuno!!


End file.
